Confession of the Mayo Killer
First thing is this: You didn’t catch me. You aren’t smart enough to catch me. I gave up. I confessed.
You might not know this, but your air conditioner doesn’t cool your house. It moves the heat from your house to another place. Maybe good and evil are a bit like that, too. WARNING: This is not a “nice” story.
Imagine you have to face an eternity of mondays. Imagine that your job is to represent death to the nearly departed. Now, meet Sigma Delta, the surliest duly employed representative of Death you’ll ever know.
An homage to one of my literary heroes, built around a passage that influenced my outlook on life.
Forthcoming: