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I enjoy travelling. Not because I meet new people or see new places. I just enjoy the act of travelling. Moving from one location to another. Idleness bores me. Occasionally however, I must stop. It is my livelihood after all. The Little Rock situation was one of those stops.
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It wasn't my intention to make headlines. I am a salesman. And selling is what I do. How was I to know the good doctor's wife would arrive home so soon, listening into our conversation? At least she died knowing how much he hated her. Honesty is a virtue, no? Now then, I just couldn't let the children live, could I? One of them would have undoubtedly screamed, so I merely slashed their throats. Yes yes, gurgling is no better than screams, but at least it's quieter. It also seemed the deaths of his children (purely unintentional I might add; it was instinctive) upset the doctor greatly. He was hysterical even. I was too, to be honest. After all, such copious amounts of blood drenched the upper-class home's dining room, which would do no good to the carpet. You understand don't you? He had to die. So he did.
It saddens me to think the wife could approach me and listen for so long. How did I not know? I do understand I’ve been careless recently. Not my previous self. I wonder why? Perhaps my body can no longer agree with our occupation. A terrible thought but it is a likely truth. That is fine. I am suited for other work. Change is good, no?
What was a man to do with several corpses, all messy and such? I could not dispose of them like I usually did (My usual bit is clean but no less gentle). As luck would have it, there had recently been a string of murders by undisciplined folk, most likely residents of the town. I knew I left no marks identifying myself so mimicking the 'crazed maniacs', or so the papers labelled them, was not so difficult. All I had to do was make things extremely messy. True enough, eventually someone would realize the murders were not connected but will I be around? Of course not.
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Now this brings us to an interesting question. Why did I stay? One sale and I leave. That was how I always operated. And since this one was rather half-successful (the house had some goods, nothing that would interest me much) it would be in my best interests to leave, yes? No. I remained. Why? It was winter, was it not? Does winter not sap you of energy? Make one listless? Ah, but the opposite applies to yours truly. I love the cold. Reasons are my own, I feel alive when cold. And whenever I feel alive, I feel young. When I feel young, I feel irresponsible. I feel as if the world will end tomorrow. I feel as if my world will end tomorrow. Now what would you do if the world ended tomorrow? Make love with the first person you see? Spend your last days with family and friends? Pray to your religious icon? Kill everyone? No, I know what you will do. You will do nothing. You won't even know and your day will be like any other. And you will die. I feel the world will end tomorrow every other day. Doesn't that make life interesting and trivial? Yes, it does.
The day I murdered the doctor and his family, I was cold.
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