Secretary
I’ve already seen. What do you want? That we will find us both, finally, once. With the lack of will of a convicted person, he opened the door. Without one step none of the two, we looked at each milestone to milestone. He asked me, as if I had the answer: am I crazy? I was not crazy, but terrified, sunk, astonished. If he had kept his usual composure, if it had maintained the lucidity that was always characterized, would have noted that I was not. We resultabamos not even exactly equal. I am somewhat higher.
Less chunky, by lack of exercise. He on the other hand, has some incipient Crow’s feet in a very light ICT in the right corner of the mouth and eyes. But recent events had abotargado your senses; It was delivered to the inevitability and even death. So I killed it. He had no time to realize. He was a successful stab to the heart. Then came the most difficult of all: adapt the scenario, prepare props, stage ultimately his suicide.
To me stopped me that same afternoon the police in his Office. He had gone to his Office, had taken its place, he had greeted his fellow and he had done his job. He wore so much time spying on you! It was known as to imply its existence! But the police stopped me: we need your collaboration very politely said me one of the two guys who came that afternoon to clarify the deaths of two people you know perfectly. I have no problem. But, if you don’t mind, we could first pass by my house to change my clothes, because I’ve spotted me my shirt of ink and I taught it is. Not amused them, although they accepted him with two puffs. Arriving at the apartment they were stupefied, like two boxers who roam dreamed by the quadrilateral after fit a straight to the jaw. There was I, not me, but him, dead and with a written letter to his side in his own handwriting, that is, of mine. He explained that always I had hated me, that is, to him, because he was envious of my professional, loving, social success and that is why I had wanted to occupy my life, that was theirs, killing people who had a relationship with me. But then, to realize what horrible was what he had done, he decided to kill himself, leaving that explanatory letter. The concierge of the building, my Secretary, co-workers, the psychiatrist confirmed that it was time that I worried I feel observed and chased by an alleged lookalike. None had believed until then though, look at where, it was true. Everyone agreed, also, to try to identify the corpse of Cerulean face and with the rictus unpleasant suddenly sudden and premature death that had never seen you and in which, despite fact me enough, none of them had given them the hit if he had tried to impersonate me: nor of cona! he flatly ruled Vicky.