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Leonard was absorbed by the red hues of the wide Arizona desert. It was hot outside in the late spring, the cascading layers of rock enthralling and the green shrubs and cacti complementing the red cliffs. Here Leonard could be alone with his thoughts, far from the problems of his life.
No one was chasing him in the desert. No one was telling him he wasn’t allowed to set fire to buildings. No one was insisting Leonard couldn’t punch a guy in the face and start fighting because Leonard didn’t like how the guy was looking at him, or that the guy had a hot girlfriend which Leonard did not. In the desert, no one knew how much money he’d stashed away in offshore accounts from the company where he’d been an accountant with a falsified identity, these past two-years.
Out here in the desert, there was serenity and quiet. Leonard would in an hour, catch a private plane and reclaim his offshore funds. But he wasn’t counting on the rattle snake who bit his leg when he stood up and stepped on the snake accidentally.
The snake’s poisonus venom made Leonard numb in minutes. Quickly he was fading into obscurity and death; the bright red Arizona desert claiming him for all his wrongs. How curious a snake would kill a snake.
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