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- The sunset yesterday was spectacular, looked like fire, although it was probably rainshowers lit up by the sun. I mentioned as much to the puppy's roommate's friend who was standing in the street outside our house when I got home last night. Two hours earlier, his younger sister had been murdered by her asshole husband. I didn't know it was his sister or I wouldn't have talked to him about the fucking sunset. I knew that it had happened, I'd seen the news report online. When I walked up to our house and saw him standing in the street I knew something was weird, but as soon as I saw the puppy's roommate's face I knew what it was. I hoped it wasn't, but I knew it was. I typed more about what happened last night but I won't post it here. Maybe someday I'll start referring to him as something other than the puppy's roommate, which at the very least makes for difficult noun phrases. I was going to do it in this one but this isn't the time. I'm on the outskirts of this and it's hard to know how to feel. I didn't know her and hardly know her brother but I know his friends and I feel awful for them. It's terrible seeing people cry. I'd like to fix things and make them un-unhappy. I'd like to slap the motherfucker who did this across the face and tell him that the best way to do a murder-suicide is to do the suicide part first. How can someone be such a selfish, horrible monster. I got 4 hours of sleep at most, I'm sure the puppy's roommate got even less, I heard him walking around when I woke up in the dark. I didn't go back to sleep, he didn't go to work this morning. I remember when I was housesitting one summer, had my laundry out hanging and I was sitting in the sun, and at a house across the street a family was having the worst day of their lives, three police cruisers with their lights off parked out front, the mother leaning her head on her arms against the side of the house. What I remember is how nice and warm and summery the day was, and how awful that was.
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