He walked through the ironnBurned bushes behind him.nIn the quad citiesnhis throat felt like sand.nSo he bought some beernand then killed the grocery man.nAlbert C. SamsonnnHe washed his handsnin the cool cool water.nAlbert C. thought about his father.nThe one he never knew.nThe one he proved everything to.nnHe popped the tabnand he left the scene.nDrove for hours and hours and hours and hours....nIt all felt like a dreamnHe took the exit left to Wright townnlooking for an old deserted barn.nnWell the town woke upnlike never before.nThe people of Wright townnthought they'd live this daynlike the one before.nTheir town was host to a killer at large.nThey grabbed their bibles and guns.nnThis all went onnfor days and days.nAlbert C.'s head inna mad, mad swirling haze.nLaughing at the town's whole charadenAlbert C. knew this barn would be his grave.nnThe colored sun chairsnlined the street.nCameras like starsnblinked like Albert C.'s heart beat.nLoud sharp heat filled his headntraveling faster than the news....nnAlbert C. was dead.nnburied beneath the blastnby his own hand he was saved at last