Arsonist At Large

I stared at my hands, then peered through open fingers at Dolly as she lay motionless.
“Fuck!” I cursed, angry at myself this time. There were times my temper got the best of me, “Way to go, Wendy!” I chastised myself, “Charlie will hate you now!”
I gave the ol’ coot one last kick in the side of her motionless head, and took great pleasure as it snapped back violently cracking against the wall. I let out a deep, long sigh to calm my nerves.
“Think, Wendy, where would he go?”
I got dressed.
The mall! I thought, He always goes to the mall to look at the girls He was a typical man. Always coveting what he could not have.
He’s gone! Dolly had said.
“He wouldn’t have!” a thought entered my mind.
My hands rifled through papers on our dresser; a menu hit the floor, followed by bills and a Jehovah’s witness pamphlet, with an address circled on the back (I put that one in my pocket). And then my hands stopped.
New Gate Addiction Services. “You wouldn’t” a tear fell. “I’m gonna burn it to the ground!”

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