by Douglas T. Araujo

Yes, Officer, I admit I hit Mr. Whitmore. I hit him right on the head with the silver chandelier I inherited from my mother.

No, of course I didn’t want to kill him! That was an unfortunate accident, and I’m very sorry… poor Mrs. Whitmore… But what was I supposed to do? He broke into my apartment and wanted to take Miles away from me!

Who is Miles? Well, Miles is my cat. A ten years-old white Persian with marvelous blue eyes. A friend gave him to me soon after my husband passed away. He was just a kitten then, and I must say that taking care of him was the only thing that kept me alive during those difficult times.

Yes, it was like I said. Mr. Whitmore wanted to take Miles away, and that’s why I hit him with the chandelier. I couldn’t allow him to take Miles away, could I? I’m an old woman, Officer, and Miles is my only friend.

Well, I can’t say why Mr. Whitmore wanted to do that. Who can say what was going on the poor man’s mind? Besides, I don’t think we should say bad things about the dead… it’s just not right, don’t you agree?

About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)