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The blood dripped into the sink with a light “plunk…..plunk”, each drip bursting into pink against the white porcelain. I watched the drips for a moment, caught up in the rhythm they created. Sighing to myself, I reached for a garbage bag so I could start cleaning up the mess I had made.

I admired the smooth slice along his neck, opening up his jugulars for all to see. As he bent over the kitchen sink to check for a clog, I reached around and sliced him like he was cattle in a slaughterhouse. The blood had gushed forth in one side of the sink while he struggled. When he went limp I shoved him over to the other side so I could get bleach going on the first side.

When the kitchen was clean and the body bagged up, I took a hot shower so the blood didn’t dry in my hair, I hate when that happens.