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Multnomah County Corrections

Beaverton, OR

September 27th, 2021

Nothing was clear at that moment except that he had roughly two hundred dollars and some change in his pocket, no place to stay, and a hankering for the bottle he’d placed in the bag that he’d managed to take from his former home. His wife wouldn’t take him back she’d said until he’d learned what it was like not to lie to anyone, while his kids hadn’t even offered a parting shot when he’d been out the door. His friend wouldn’t let him stay on their property for longer than it took them to call the cops, his former brethren, and even his parents had warned him to stay away.

He was truly without anything or anyone to call upon in a time of need, but he at least knew where to find a cheap hotel for the night and had a few prospects that he could look forward to trying in the morning. He’d been cut loose and reviled by everyone that knew him, but Beaverton was a big place. Even someone like him could find a new place to start and begin the mess that was his life all over again. Whether or not he went back to the old life ever again was something that he’d still have to reconcile with in the days and months to come.

After all, lying was what he’d been born to do, but thanks to the experimental chemical that he’d been dosed with that didn’t seem like a possibility in the near future. He knew it wasn’t possible but he fancied that he could still feel the nettling sting of the stuff that had been injected into his bloodstream, running its course much as the bastard that had put it in had said it would, sticking with him as it had somehow bonded to his very DNA. It was the kind of thing you’d expect to hear about in a poorly written science fiction story, but this was real life, and despite being approved by the FDA the serum had seemed highly immoral to him. Of course immoral was a word that he rarely used in relation to others as he was already enough of a hypocrite.

The sweetest words he’d heard not long after his arraignment had been “Alain, roll out” which had meant that he’d been given permission to check out of the County bed and breakfast and walk out into the open air, a free man with clothes that reeked of alcohol and vomit and no chance in hell of getting into any hotel, no matter if it was a five-star palace or a flea-bitten dive.

With a great sigh he made his way down the front steps of the courthouse, trying to think of where he could find the nearest public restroom.

(to be continued)

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