Four
Candles burned all about the apartment, along the walls, on the table and chairs, and across the window sill. He was hanging pictures on the wall and getting comfortable in his new place—getting settled in and organized. After being let go from the law firm he had received a nice severance check. He paused momentarily to look out the window, humming to himself.
He held a bag of faces he had cut from his favorite pictures. He made them perfect, each and every photo—he had literally and figuratively cut the bad people from his life, and he held in his hand a bag of their heads to prove it. He pushed the bag of tiny smiles to the back of the drawer next to the window. He felt a rush of power with such an action, he was in control. The way it was supposed to be.
He taped the pictures o
