The Lost Girl

“I told Marcia I could manage by myself….but I’ve realised I can’t. I need a wash….could you help me in and out of the bath?”

The initial thought filled me with revulsion, but then something clicked at the back of mind.

“Yeah…yeah…no problem…”

It seemed perfect. A time for questions.

We agreed to have a bath the following night.

This gave me ample time to decide my questions, to reassert that I was doing the right thing. All that time, one empty mind spinning with fresh ideas. Within days I had decided he was the killer. It felt like such a fitting conclusion, and I wondered how it had not occurred to me before. After all, it was fact that murder victims were very likely to know their killers.

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. :)