I took French in high school – because you had to take a language and I had no interest in German. I was horrible at it and started to avoid going to class all together. It didn’t help that Madame de Pompadour was the biggest cry baby I’d ever met. She cried if her students would ignore her, she cried if you gave her a gift, she cried over a rainy day. I couldn’t stand it.
She was one of the very first people I thought about killing in earnest. I didn’t kill until years later, just before our ten year reunion. She cried even then.
There was a point to my story but I can’t for the life of me remember it.
Anyways, I talked to James about Jason catching us in the woods. Not a sexual thing, mind you. Actually, I don’t know if-no, he’s definitely caught us having sex. This time, he caught us dragging a body into the woods and didn’t say anything. James had a similar reaction to when I showed him the picture Jason had drawn of us: it’s pretty good. That boy does have an eye for detail in everything he does. If not for his moral compass, I think he’d make a great serial killer. But alas, I must respect his wishes to remain an outsider in the family business.
I, of course, burned the picture after showing it to my husband but it’s made me think about hobbies and ways I can use my skills in areas that have no benefit other than personal entertainment.
Maybe I could pick up something to occupy my few empty hours. Any suggestions?
As always, dear readers,