At Dawn My friend Rachel challenged me to write something to go along with the below picture. I did it because I don't want her to hit me again. And because I'm weird. And, possibly, because I haven't really slept much in the last ten days.  The long night had quickly turned into an awkward and sullen morning. He had left for the San Jose D&D convention in the best of moods and with the purest of intentions. He knew Tim would be there (he always was) and that they would waste no time in beginning their vociferous debate. This time, however, he had decided to be the bigger man and burry the hatchet. After all, he thought to himself, one of the many great things about D&D is it's inclusive nature. Also, you can role-play as a 15th level sorceress...Of love. When he ran into Tim at the magic missile vs. fireball symposium he paused only briefly before heading into the fray. He smiled politely as Tim began to regale him with theories about class advancement and sub-classes of various characters. He would politely interject with thoughts of his own, phrased impeccably and politely even when Tim touched on a particularly irksome issue. Before parting ways for their respective tournaments, he even went so far as to suggest that the two of them ought to go and get a drink or two afterwards. Later in the evening, at the local Ye Olde T.G.I.Friday's the debate began again. Only this time it was fueled by alcohol and Tim was wearing thin. It wasn't long before he decided that his only way of getting out of this without breaking the promise to himself was to leave. He reached into his money purse and tossed down some coins before making a break for the door. Tim, in mock outrage, followed. He walked faster and faster in an attempt to distance himself from the bellowing inanities Tim was spewing at the back of his head but was caught up to when he had to stop and unlock his car. Still, he did his best to let it all roll of his back, until Tim decided to make a final parting shot. "...Besides, everybody knows that monks are pussies". He was halfway into his car. Halfway to freedom. Halfway to a happy ending. Then he snapped. His vision blurred with rage and without thinking he grabbed his first edition copy of the "Monster Manual". Spinning around he began to smashing Tim head with the book. The blows were delivered fast and furiously, he lost count of how many times he hit Tim, all he knew after Tim dropped to the ground lifeless was that it was finally over. He looked around the parking lot and was surprised to see not a soul. No witnesses, no crime. He wrangled Tim's body into the trunk of his mother's El Dorado and headed for the lake. It was almost dawn when he finally arrived. He waded waist deep in the lake and wedged Tim's body underneath a submerged outcropping of rocks. He stood with his back to the lake in the cool dawn air enjoying the permanent silence. Then he went and got waffles.
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