If I hadn’t killed Linus, I might have married him. As it was, I kept his blood in a tiny jar on my mantel, like an urn of ashes. It was sort of funny, since it wasn’t even me that he loved best.
If I’d married Linus, I might have been happy. As it was, I kept my smile in a tiny pocket in my jacket, like in that childish song. It was sort of sad, since it was I that made certain that he was gone.
If I’d been happy, I might not have killed Martin. As it was, I kept noticing that he looked too much like Linus, just like Linus. It was sort of irrational, since I might have married him if I hadn’t killed him.
Post a Comment