You Will Know Him in the Valley of Death, He Wears the Blue Ribbon

The line measures seven feet underground. The crime preserved like a grave long-jump.

Gabe, 'G', a professional geologist-- Gabriel angel; 'H' is for hematoma discovered at the base of the neck. Necks are necks. These are singular. Davidovac, the victim's last name.

I-- my team located his body. Our head-lamps illuminate the hands, bound almost in prayer, at the wrists and between the legs. The body had its ankles knotted together. A specialty hitch slash granny-square-tie seems to have tightened the noose during his struggle. Well, it's a birthday.

Inside the viaduct it's damp. And his urine may have drowned him when he fell into it.

A wallet, no clothing remained, and eighty dollars cash were found near the body--clearly not a robbery.

Forensics determined at the axis of the electrical cord, on his ankles, a pulley was created that allowed said strangulation to occur as indicated by chafe marks here and here.

There are no clear signs of assault. Although, footprints suggest a perp, roughly the same age, exited the scene backward. Corpses always lay out the contrary. Death!

No spinal fluid, a ruptured kidney, but Mr. Davidovac was hit from behind with a loose, blunt object-- namely a rubber hose, a prosthetic, a link of sausages. Note: Question autopsy about stomach contents.

The artificial limb was located a few meters away and tagged.

Call down the photographer.

I remove my latex gloves and speak into the recorder: Auto-erotic asphyxiation self-inflicted by hanged man age thirty; the biography of a third arm.

Pyrite equals Fool's Gold-- Morphology, Poe. The steppes of the Hindu Kush are treacherous. These, I think, I remember from college Houdini. Bothersome. You are the most estranged genius we've found.

Success is, too often, the key unto heaven.

About the author:

R.A. Segety is a Hungarian writer whose works have appeared in Bathtub Gin, Cocked & Ready, Matrix, as well as within numerous independent zines and journals.