What you're about to hear is based on actual events.

Listener discretion is advised.

It is a race now.

A question of who will get him first.

One of the many officers who have jarged past the dumpster, or mayang, who is relentlessly

goading him to end it, to end it the way he had for her, with the knife.

Marcus looks into the blade and throws a wild thought back at his lover's ghost.

At least you won't have to tidy up once I'm gone, not that you ever fucking cleaned up

after yourself.

A grin begins to slide across his mouth, but curdles when he sees his reflection.

He's become something hideous, a ghoul crouched in a dumpster, leering into a murder weapon.

He wipes at the dry blood on his hands and feels shame.

Not for what he has started, but for what he's having so much trouble finishing.

Outwardly clean, but inwardly, filthy.

Marcus sheepishly exits a shot with cleaning supplies.

Certain that the dubious clerk has picked up a phone.

He quickly escapes down the sidewalk, forcing himself not to sprint, and is soon back

at the door of his apartment.

Already there is a foul smell in the air.

I have to hurry, Marcus thinks, as he unlocks the door.

He looks around the hallway, suddenly aware that his neighbors can probably smell the

odor that's now seeping from his flat.

...