I'm sure you all have had your fair share of marital problems, wanting to just make him disappear. But, most don't have the guts to do so. Yet I did. Now I'm not condoning murder per say, I inevitably was found out. But he had it coming. Now see, my husband was a sculptor and thoroughly renowned for it. For what ever subject his fingers embraced, he could portray almost life like. That was where all our troubles started though.
My husbands most famous subjects, were that of the human flesh. Yet his fingers would not be the only tools to trace their curves,nor was his gaze the only form of penetration. It was their last though. Every night he would return home smelling of a new one of his whores. And every night as his doting, loving wife I would help him wash. Kneed the (sexual) tension from my husband's shoulders, and kiss the same neck her lips had now left tainted.
One afternoon, we noticed all the mice were now gone. George had scoffed at the landlord setting out food for them, yet they had all perished. Curiosity got the best of me, and I inquired to what form of poison did he use. All sanity was thus lost. The landlord informed me, it killed over the course of weeks,slowly draining the life of any vermin. He had used a form of crystallized arsenic. Funny how hubby dearest, never noticed the new bath salts.
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