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On top of everything a notice of eviction! What is this shit of a life fucking doing to me?

My mind is made up. I am handing myself in. In a confined prison cell life can then kick the crap out of me for all it wants; I don't care.  Later I will phone Verity and tell her that John is dead, that I have killed him, and that I need her to be with me when I phone the police and have them take me away. My life is over. Tristram Spencer is a fated man.


  1. Lee, not quite as fated as me... do you have any idea of the twisted mind that is controlling my fate? If you did you'd sympathize.

    Oh, did you catch the name at the bottom of the letter? X


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