I am Accused of Killing
It had been a quiet, but good day. I had felt less of the residual neck pain and headache from the shingles. I went to the laundromat. My clarinet lesson had gone well. I had done some cleaning. My day went fine until some time after six. I was in a t shirt and underwear and a woman came banging on my door wanting to buy pots in spite of having seen the closed sign. …
