Fiction in English


I hardly knew James. By the time I met him, his life was practically over, in the sense that he had decided upon his mission, his end, his own death to be witnessed by Sharon Cuneta. His decision carried within it all the impetus he needed to carry out his complex deathwish. I don't know what long dark train of thought would lead him to such a choice, carried him through the mental wreckage of his difficult last month of stalking, of kidnapping, that impossible last week of preparing for his death before her very eyes.

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