His name was Devil… Devil McDermitt, and it suited him. Mine? Mine’s Tyler. Together we lurked in the shadows, scrutinized targets, and carried out our plans. Looking back, I see how much he influenced… maybe even manipulated me. It was 2014, and we lived in Boston, South Dorchester, or Dawchestah to be more precise. We were there as far back as my memory does justice, and it was always considered a tough area. Really, everything south of South Boston from Cottage Street down to Gallivan Boulevard and everything east of Blue Hill Avenue was considered rough. Rough, that is, if you weren’t from there. If you were… then you were used to it, and it was all you knew. It wasn’t rough, it was just the way it was—that was life. If you weren’t from Boston and you were looking to visit, some people may tell you to stick to Boston main—visit Beacon Hill, check out Boston Common and the Freedom Trail, walk the waterfront, and maybe even head over the bridge to Charlestown—there’s some cool stuff there. You may not be pointed toward the Bay State Model Railway Museum in Roslindale, but it’s wicked balls, and that area is pretty safe too. What they won’t point you toward is Dorchester. Area newspapers have run stories of late that would lead you to believe that East Roxbury and Mattapan are more threatening than Dorchester, and don’t get me wrong, you don’t want to wander there at night, but we still have our crap in Dorchester too. It was fall, or as the Redcoats called it, autumn, and fall was my favorite time of year.
moved to Canada’s capital. Robert has worked in network design, administration and security. He recently transitioned from a job managing a digital forensics team (supporting investigations) to Enterprise Architecture. That’s his day job. At night, he writes.
the tour HERE
for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!