What I remember of my cousin killing his sister is the sound. The stabbing that sounded like knocking, the knife being driven so hard into Agnes’ stomach it cleared the other side, striking the tub’s

I was on my way to guitar lessons, then Pure Math tutoring.

I didn’t say anything about your job or your Mark Twain or anything. There’s nothing wrong with working in a factory, there’s nothing wrong with bowling, there’s nothing wrong with having a Star Wars room…