Chalky

“That’s a legend you’ve got outlined there,” a raspy voice said. The patrolman looked up to see an older man in a grey rumpled suit, “You ever heard about Constance Smith?” The patrolman shook his head.

“Some people in this town say she’s the mother of this man. Or at least, who this man was,” the man lit a rolled cigarette, “but the thing is that boy turned snake turned city-legend wasn’t half the enforcer she was.” The patrolman caught a glance at the silver at the man’s hip and the scarred knuckles that brushed it.

The older man gave a nod before leaving the young man to his outline and all the questions he’d never have answered.