He turned his collar up and walked toward the river. Somewhere down there, a woman he’d once loved was probably dead. Somewhere down there, the man who’d made her that way was still breathing. And Jeff—Mutt Jeff, the dog with no master and no leash—was going to find him.
“Yeah,” he said to the empty street. “Same.” Pale Carnations -Ch.4 Up.5- -Mutt Jeff-
He crushed the cigarette under his heel and tucked the carnation back into his pocket. The stray dog had moved on, disappearing into the mouth of a storm drain. Jeff wondered if it had found a place to curl up, or if it was still running, still looking for something it couldn’t name. He turned his collar up and walked toward the river
“That’s you,” Jeff muttered to himself. “Mutt Jeff.” or if it was still running