Who Has To Know?


She had the awareness of a choice; turn right or left.

Black or white. Gray? Was purple an option?

She had a sudden vision of herself grabbing a pillow and mashing it into his face. She’d never killed anyone before, and wondered what it would feel like—during and after.

She’d never raped anyone before either.

But she wasn’t that keen on hurting someone, she decided.

She straightened up. “Well, I’m bored senseless. See ya.” She walked out feeling rather unsatisfied.


At least he’d learned to say No this time.

There was something wrong with her. More than just a lack of moral code or ‘not giving a fuck’?

She just enjoys messing with me.

Should he get a restraining order? On what grounds, for being creepy?

And what or when would he tell Laura? No ideas materialized in his mind. He thought about praying, but couldn’t.

His mind wandered. He didn’t want to leave his wife, because that’s what she wanted.

But he had a feeling that she would laugh at him whether he stayed or left.

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