Window box 1
Location: Front sill (left)
Feet, hands, genitals (not wrapped)*

Window box 2 & 3
Location: Front sill (middle)

Window box 4
Location: Front sill (right)
Calf, shoulder, assorted flesh

Window Box 5
Location: Kitchen sill
Head, upper back (x 2 wraps), shoulder

Window Box 6
Location: Toilet sill
Buttocks, heart, flesh from stomach

Window Boxes 7 & 8
Location: Bedroom sill
Calf, upper torso (x2 wraps), forearms, ribs, flesh from back

Window Boxes 9 & 10
Location: Living room (back window) sill
Upper arms, spine, ribs, oddments of flesh

As far as I can recall that is how John's body parts are dispersed. It feels weird being in the apartment knowing that he surrounds me like that. I've tried to take comfort from it, but more than comfort I just kinda feel ever more imprisoned by the man – only now in a very grim, macabre way.

Today I occupied my conscience by boiling up, then blending down, John's intestines and internal organs. When I had finished I poured it all back into the large saucepan and stirred in two bottles of Dolmio Neapolitan Tomato Sauce. Over the course of the next few days I'll mix it up with platefuls of spaghetti and gradually throw it away as left over supper. I try not to think about what I have done or what I am doing. For the moment my actions need to be emotionless and mechanical. I have to do this, this and that – no questions. What's in the blender are birds innards... I'm making a liver mousse, etc. Until I have got rid of all the evidence and come up with a believable alibi then I must think like that. If not it will be one of Her Majesties Hotels for sure.

On a separate note, Verity will visit sometime during the week. I have decided that while she is here I will confess all. She is the one person in this world I trust and who needs to know (or who doesn't need to know, but who I need to tell.) What her reaction will be I cannot even guess at, though if she does crack up and call the police, well, who better to have me sent to prison for life than my best and only friend? What a great footnote that would be!

* No perverse reason, just pure bad luck. The final roll of cling film squeaked to a finish and so I popped the balls and cock in 'undressed'. Wasn't really much different from planting a daffodil bulb.


  1. How appropriate, to have his hands with his cock. Poetic, really.

  2. Hi Simon,

    yeah I know, and his heart outside the toilet! Just coincidence, I think... X

  3. Your window boxes must be huge...

  4. Soup!: No, just average british size: 60cm x 20 x 20 (I'm just guessing there. I don't want to go fiddling about mesuring them at the moment)

    You can get window boxes up to 6ft. Mr Bartholemew's one is probably that. What a pity he potted it out with Foxglove (a typical'closet' plant). He also cut them back too late, so if it's a second bloom he wants, ha, no chance!

    Various Window Boxes

  5. Arghg!


    Do NOT tell Verity. She is bound to have a crisis of conscience, and
    have to go tell the Rozzers. Worse, she will warn you that she just has
    to do it ... prompting you to have to drown her in the bath ...

    You sure your blender is up to another corpse? I think not ... You
    will have to take a trip to russel Square, to that nice catering
    supplier, for a big mincer (no pun intended).. If you do that, you could
    come back via Battersea dogs' home, and get a nice, hungry-looking
    rottweiler ...

    Need I go on?

    Yes, I will. Rotty can savage Brian later - not fatally - just a
    vicious un-manning ... Oh - scratch the rottweiler - a doberman pinscher
    is far better at that - they are not known as 'bollock dogs' for

    Well - having said all that, you won't do any of it ... so I can't wait
    to see what happens next!

  6. One might almost suspect you obtained those 10 ugly green window boxes for this very purpose...

  7. @ Gurney Nutting: I'm not sure, verity a very liberal person and her own treatment at the hands of the law and recent experience of incarceration may make her not want anyone else to experience such a thing. Also, we've know eacjh other for almost 12 years and I've even seen her Chat (as the french would say!) I think that counts for something.

    Brian, hmmm, everyone wants to see him get his cum-up-pence, but I've a feeling his will be a future suffering, that it will cum about due to his fondness for public toilets and unprotected sex. Or, he may even end up in Battersea Dogs home himself! Brian... is there any name with quite the lack of charm as that one?

    @ Abigail: Yes, it could look like that, or as so often happens in life, in retrospect events seem so predictable, almost planned, when in fact it was all just a combination of pure hazard. When we have the answer, the equation is easy to find.It's just logic in a way: we can never be sure where we're going, but once we get there it's all too obvious how we arrived. X


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