'What are you doing?" he asked.
'Looking at pictures of charred corpses.' I replied.
'I see. Why?'
''To see what kind of accelerant a person would need to cover up a muder. How high would the temperatures need to be to completely destroy any and all evidence of foul play. And how could such a blaze be considered an accident in the first place. It's tricksy with accelerants, they're too easily traced.'
'Remind me never to cross you.'
'Don't worry Sweetie, I wouldn't burn you.'
'I'd get you drunk, take you night swimming and drown you.'
'That's comforting to know.'
'Do you want a green tea?'
'Sure, that would be nice.'
'I'll make you one in a few minutes.'
He then wandered off to gobble painkillers, the bigger of the cats yawned and I went back to looking at corpse photos.
Labels: death becomes him.