“Nice tattoos, where did you get em” flirted the twenty year old beauty in her Express business suit.

“Judeah” replied the young tattooed cross between James Dean and Joey Ramone. His reply was quick, and sent out an air of I don’t want to talk, I don’t have time, and don’t need small talk.

The young belle took in a breath like a school girl who just the saw the high school quarterback walk by while she imagined herself with his lettermen jacket. Her eyelashes flickered with the intensity of a humming bird after a long trip from Guatemala to the lush breeding grounds of Destin Florida.

“Cuneiform” he barked. “Look this tattoo is Solomon’s curse I wear upon my face. It is warning in a language, that all those who could read it are long dead. But don’t worry, they didn’t heed it any more than you. They saw these words on my face, and didn’t believe it applied to them. They were all wrong dead wrong.”