The only thing I see is the bundle itself. Every blade of grass, every pebble, stands out in acute detail. I listen for the slightest sound of movement, of someone close by. Instantly my eyes dilate, my nostrils flare. No cars parked anywhere along the road leading up to the trail.

There was no bundle when I walked this way before. I know every foot of ground, which is why the bundle deposited on the path catches my attention like a flaming neon sign. The bare ground looks blue and ink-soaked, like an alien planet. I’ve never seen another soul within a dozen miles of this place. I’m hollowed out, cleansed, ready to rest. I felt deeply peaceful as the bin disappeared down the shaft. The fact that Danvers’s bones will be displayed in the lobby of a tech firm gives me even greater pleasure than removing his annoying existence from my life. Accepting the purchase offer tonight was even more hubristic.īut there is no art without sacrifice, without risk. The bones within Fragile Ego are, of course, a different story.Ĭreating the sculpture was an action of uncharacteristic flagrancy. If it is, the remains I’ve deposited are unlikely to be identified, and impossible to link to me. I doubt my dumping ground will ever be discovered. There are 47,000 abandoned mines in California, nine hundred just in the Bay Area. I dropped the bin down a three-hundred-foot deep shaft, hidden inside a cave. It causes hemoglobin to degrade, destroying the ability to harvest DNA. Not just any bleach-highly concentrated oxygen-producing detergent. The last of him resides in the industrial bin I brought out to the mine. It’s devilishly difficult to prove that someone is dead if they simply disappear. That’s the thing about murder: no body, no crime. I’ve already heard whispers that he was deeply in debt, that he was depressed, that he once made a joke about throwing himself off a bridge. Maybe the cops even visited his pretentious apartment in Pacific Heights. I’m sure the Siren office reported his failure to arrive at work. It takes several weeks for the rumors of Carl Danvers’ disappearance to begin swirling around the art world.

Read there are no saints online free