Pain fluttered in the air as embers and photos. All those feelings and thoughts were scattered in burning flames of passion. Everyday, every moment littered the air as billowing shapes of intoxicating smoke, phasing everyone who dared breathe in its midst. Spluttering pedestrians choked at the smell, children puzzled at the site, whilst the older were disturbed with understanding. Her family weeping. Her body burning.
Blue, red, white.
The firefighters struggling with hose pipes and valves.
Blue.
The rookies sealing off the entrance to the street and labelling it a crime scene.
Red.
The news reporters arguing with officials asking for statements.
White.
Detectives asking the same mind numbing questions.
And all the while I watch, peering through the dust stained blinds of the cheapest hotel I could find. I laugh knowing that they can't see me, I laugh knowing they never will. They could ride with me on a bus, discuss politics in the post office or serve me coffee every week. But still they won't notice because I'm so normal that I'm invisible.
Invisibility; an amazing skill to have. Especially for a serial killer.
Especially for me.
Blue. Red. White.
