His thoughts were scattered and he struggled to get them under control. Control was the order of the day and the only way he could manage to navigate around the inferiors that scurried around and made his life miserable. Sleep was the only escape from them; the sleep of the dead. He did not dream, for every waking moment in his life was a dream. The only relief from this waking dream was the brief respite he gained when he released one of them from their pitiful lives.

He was excited when he thought about the coming evening. He had been watching one in particular for several days, keeping tabs on her schedule. Her comings and goings were pitifully routine. He knew when she would be driving into the garage on any given night dressed in her flimsy clothing from the night out on the town. She was a slut. Mother would certainly never have approved of him being around her and it would brighten the world to remove her from it.

To be continued…Maybe

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