3 thoughts on “BOOK 15”

  1. I need to think of something. I need to cover up the mess I made. It needs to look bad, not good. My mind races, as does my heart. Why do I always fuck up this way?
    On the table is a tin of tomato concentrate. I open it. I take one of her pristine, white socks and a spoon full of red mush. Firmly I rub the stuff into the sock. It needs to look bad. It needs t look like blood. It needs to explain why she disappeared. The girl seemed so desperate. She felt like a close friend within a few minutes. I place the sock in somewhere on the sofa, in plain view of the webcam. It will look puzzling, scary even, hopefully. They will not suspect she ran away.

  2. For years I have practiced traveling light. For years I have failed. Always too much stuff in mu suitcase. But now I finally know how to do it. Just leauve most stuff at home! So this time I packed a small box with only one sock (in caseI suffer from a cold foot) a spoon (which comes in handy when I need to eat liquid stuff), a pansiment, a tin of tomato paste. Just before I took off I added a the tiny white thing women definely need once a month. That should be it.

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