The alarm clock read 8.05am, shit, I must have snoozed it again.
I hastily put on my clothes from the day before and ran out of the house, anxious to get to work.

I arrived at work one minute early and I sighed with relief.

The day progressed as usual, I completed the reports due and my manager patted me on the back, “Good job, John, the board are going to love this.”

I left work with a smile and parked in the free space outside my house. With a proud swagger I approached the house and opened the door; I stopped. A large smear of blood painted the wall and my heart raced. I followed the tracks to the living room and felt nauseated. Flies circled my wife’s rotting body. Then I remembered, I remembered how I raised the knife and how I stabbed it into her chest and watched her wide eyes recognise what I did.

My heart raced, I couldn’t think straight. I ran up into the bedroom and closed my eyes, promising myself I’d deal with it tomorrow.

The alarm clock read 8.05am, shit, I must have snoozed it again.
I hastily put on my clothes from the day before and ran out of the house, anxious to get to work.