Consider yourself lucky if our paths never cross. Except… luck isn’t real. Nor is karma, or sadly, justice. As much as I’d like to pretend these concepts exist… they just don’t. One is born, lives their life. And eventually, one dies. In the meantime, “Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law.” To quote… someone. Can’t remember who.
A hundred and forty million human beings are born every year. Give or take. The worldwide population is approximately 7.8 billion. Every second, 1.8 people die. While 4.2 are born into that very same second. Nothing I’ve ever done will make any dent in these metrics.“The killer”
The killer smiles very faintly, as he says the part about “Every second, 1.8 people die. While 4.2 are born into that very same second.”
He is gazing out the window from the third, fourth, or, I don’t know, maybe the fifth story. On the street across from where he is, a woman is bringing a bowl of food for a street cat. In fact, she whistles to call the cat. She puts the bowl on the ground. The cat hurried toward the woman and the bowl.
Overall, the way the killer looks at the world appears quite… soft. He seems to gaze fondly at the world.