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Cryptic

It was a cold fall morning when I stepped out of my three-room apartment to go to the local library. This is the only place I know where everything is free, it’s a broke man's haven. I walked down the sidewalk headed downtown when I heard what sounded like coins rattling. As I walked the noise got louder. I looked down an alleyway to see a woman in a large gray overcoat, her boney hands holding a tin can stripped of its label. She was sitting on a piece of cardboard, her coat pulled over her head so I couldn’t see her face. The alleyway was empty except for the beggar.

I approached the woman holding out a dollar to place in her can. Now that I look back I see how irrational this decision was, I should have just kept walking. Everything seems to go wrong when I poke my neck out. I stood in front of the woman and leaned down to place my dollar in the tin. As I reached my hand out I saw what was in the can, and it wasn’t coins. In the can were several small white bones. I studied anatomy enough to know that they were human finger bones. I jerked away from the covered woman, my back touching the wall of the alley. She shook her tin and I heard the rattling noise once again. “What? Not going to help an old lady out?” she spat. Her voice sounded rough like she scraped her tongue across sandpaper. I ran out of the ally and down the street scared of what might happen if I stayed longer.

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When I was far enough away I reached for my phone and dialed the police. They arrived about five minutes after I called. While I was waiting I kept my eyes on the ally hoping that she wouldn’t follow me. When the police arrived I told them what I saw then led them to the alleyway, but when we got there it was empty. How did she escape? It's a dead-end and I didn’t see anyone leave or enter. The policemen looked at each other in disappointment. As they left one of the officers mumbled something about me being a crazy cryptic. I continued to look around, then I saw it. At the end of the ally was a small tin can with no label.