My Trip To Davy Jones’ Locker
As I became fodder for the creatures of the sea
It is the 28th March 1912 and I’m officially a retired hit woman. I’ve spent the last 30 years killing marks for money and last week was my final kill. I’m done — getting way too old for this line of work.
It’s a beautiful sultry day and I’m enjoying the sunshine out on the back porch, when I hear a knock at…