Tight genes (learning to fly)

So I carry the gene. 

If you carry it as well than like me, you are 8x more likely to commit aggravated assault, 10x more likely to commit murder and 13x more likely to commit armed robbery and 40x more likely to commit sexual assault. 

The overwhelming majority of prisoners carry this gene, as do 98.4% of those on death row. Clearly I’m strongly predisposed toward a...different type of behavior.

Deep in my molecular blueprint - a series of alien code penned in invisibly small strings of acids determined this. I never had a say.

Half came from my mother, Leiriope and the other half from her rapist. A man I only knew as Cephisus. Once a powerful river city politician but no longer.

All in all I have a 828% higher chance of committing a violent crime. Thanks sperm and egg. Well done.

Now, here I sit. Casing my next target. My journal full of what to you might be random facts. But to me is a luminously lovely micro universe of detail and connectedness. The difference could mean 8-14 months in a 5x7, so I tend to be thorough. Don’t worry, as I’m after the crime lord and mountain goat called Pan. Before I kill him, he needs to pay. So I bleed him slowly by hitting his businesses. 

I learned from the best and also the worst. Learning what not to do is as important as what to do.

All ages have informed me. Take Colton. He taught me how to blend two distinct universes into one seamless racket.  And he was 17 years old. He liked to to fly and so he used your stolen identity to buy flight DVD’s and then broke in to take them once delivered. He studied with intense focus and eventually he stole and flew (and crashed) several small aircraft as well as luxury boats in the pacific northwest. 

Really gave the police fits up there. Made national news for awhile with his antics. Still a hero of mine. The boy Colton Harris-Moore. Dillinger of the modern depression and fellow gene carrier. 

He ditched a car in Bloomington, IN and then stole a Cessna Corvallis from Monroe county airport. They finally caught him in the Bahamas and really only because he grounded his speed boat on a sand dune. Know your surroundings.

    Heard they shot up the engines real good as they feared, and rightly so his ability to evade. You may know him as the barefoot bandit.

In the end, it’s all about style. With the right genes, some style and a little luck, why theres no telling how far you can go. But without style, flair, audacity...well, its just a missed encounter.

By the way, as to the dangerous set of genes I speak of, you may have heard of them. They are the Y chromosome. About half the population has them. And they are called males.

N.