This afternoon the temperature crept to a slow boil for the third day in a row. But that was nothing compared to the heat raging inside me. I had to blow off some steam.
I drove to the neighborhood grocery store, and after circling the parking lot, grabbed an unsuspecting victim, raced home and plunged my knife deep.
Once the deed was accomplished, I removed all the evidence: wiped down the countertops, mopped the floor, threw my clothes in the washer, took a shower and put the remains in the refrigerator, out of sight of prying eyes. I keep finding sticky footprints, but I'll worry about that later.
My thirst for the juicy, crimson liquid temporarily quenched, I needed some air. As I left the house, my neighbor waved and smiled...little does he suspect that he lives next door to The Watermelon Slayer.
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