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homicidal sociopaths are often the most charming of men
i followed him down the thin, winding dirt path, snaking its way through the park. he was walking a few steps ahead of me, with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his low rise Levis. dawn was just barely breaking, the droplets of dew on the surrounding blades of grass glistened, it looked as though the earths surface was encrusted with thousands of microscopic diamonds. his footsteps were heavy, almost violent. the beat of his clunky vans against the crust beneath him matched the...