this morning #1548.
this morning, after learning about the husband’s untimely demise, i just got back in my car & started to drive. drove away from the scene of the crime. nowhere in particular at first. in a state of shock. probably not safe to be behind the wheel but wanting to get far away. it’d only been a few days since i’d confirmed that the husband was a fake. now he was dead. the events of these past weeks seemed just as fake. it was all too much. from the fire to the nazi memorabilia to the assumed identity to the gun running, i was like i’d been dropped into an alternate reality dreamed up by an aimless, novice mystery writer. i hoped this was the end of the road but, with how things had been going, had to brace for additional twists.