Last night I dreamt that I murdered someone. (I do not know who it was that I murdered) and I remember thinking it was quite necessary but it wasn’t vindictive. And that he was rather fat. And that I murdered him with a very wide, two-pronged pitchfork. And I remember the way my weapon pierced through all his folds of fat, and being very terrified while I was at it. And then I just stood there frozen in shock with the bleeding corpse, without the faintest clue what to do next and wondering if I would be jailed for manslaughter. Or even put to death. Ironic. Fearing for my life when I’d so casually ended another just five minutes ago.

And then you came, and saw the scene, and comprehended everything immediatamente and hauled the body away so I wouldn’t be associated with it. And you hugged me (at this point I was bawling my eyes out in fright and consternation) and you told me it’d all be alright. You washed the blood out of my fingers and you kissed me, and I was safe again. Just like that.

How do we put to death, the past?



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