Saturday, July 15, 2006

The Babbling Continues On

Previously
He just realized what was said. "What do you mean kill Adam too?"
"You left her. What the hell were you thinking?"


Continued...

His thoughts were driving him crazy. They were relentless in their assault. The constant barrage of accusations, the cryptic messages, the circular thoughts. He could not take much more of it.
"I have not killed anyone" he told himself, but himself answered back.
"Are you sure? Can you really trust what you remember when we are your memories? I mean, if we say you did it, what point of reference do you have that you didn't?"
"I know who I am and I could not kill anyone!"
"Are you the type to imagine arguments in your head? The crazy are capable of anything my friend."
"And I am certainly not crazy!"
"Who are you telling? Crazy people do not talk to themselves out loud."
It quickly came to his attention that the last two thoughts were said and not thought. He had no real idea how many others he had been saying to anyone who may have passed by. He wondered if any of them may have caught anything about his killing someone.
"Guilty conscious?"
The cigarette he was smoking was now a cold butt between his fingers. He noticed on his third empty drag of it. He was also so lost in thought that his lighter had fallen from his hand and he didn't notice for who knows how many blocks.
Panicked, he quickly turned and ran down the sidewalk, his eyes quickly darting left and right in search of any reflective glare a street light might cast upon his fallen treasure.
The sidewalk was filthy. He had never noticed before. It looked as if the garbage collectors never came by. And there were lots of homeless people. They were everywhere. They were sleeping in storefronts; they were ducked behind dumpster, they were on apartment stairways. He lived in a really bad neighborhood. Why had this not dawned on him before?
"Kind of place a murder could go un-noticed, wouldn't you say?" the mocking thought asked him.
"Probably more than one."
"More than one!" the first thought was back. "How many have you killed, Charlie, or did you stop keeping score?"

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