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Guess Who Committed Homicide and Ate a Hoagie All in the Same Night?

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We rounded the street corner, the car humming softly. We were both tired and it was late, so there was little conversation.

A girl appeared, walking towards us down the sidewalk, much farther up the street. I thought it was an odd time for a walk, but that could just be me.

“Isn’t that--?” he asked.

“Yeah, that’s her,” I said.

He slowed the car a little, turned to look at me.

“Didn’t you ask me to take her out?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I thought it’d be nice. You. Her. It makes sense.”

He nodded slowly, looked at the girl who was coming ever closer towards us.

“Should I do it now?” he said.

“I guess if you want to.” I shrugged. “Go get her.”

He slammed his foot on the gas and the car screeched forward at unimaginable speed. He swerved it to the right, just as the girl approached. A thump was heard. The girl’s body lay limply on the hood of the car as we came to a halt.
I stepped out of the car, went around to the front. He stood next to me.
“Why in God’s name did you do that?”
“You told me to.”
“No I didn’t.”
“Yes you did. You said I should take her out.”
“Yeah. Take her out on a date.”
“Oh.”
I grabbed her wrist and felt for a pulse. There was none.
“She’s gone.”
“Well this is bad.”
“You think?” I asked.
I ran my hand through my hair. He twiddled his thumbs.
“I can’t believe you just killed a person.”
“It was one time.”
“Oh? How many people did you plan to hit with your car?”
“Not many, honestly. But these things happen...” he said.
“Are you actually rationalizing this?”
“Maybe.”
I looked back at the corpse on the car.
“Let’s call the cops,” I said.
“I’m not going to jail.” He looked at me and backed away a bit.
“Actually, you are. That’s what happens when you kill a person.”
“I know.” He sighed. “This is really going to put a damper on my weekend.”
“Yeah, well. Homicide does that to you.”
I grabbed my cell phone and dialed 911. I talked to them, gave them the details, and hung up when I was told to.
“They’ll be here in a few minutes.” I said.
He just stood with his hands in his pockets.
He walked around the car, opened the door to the backseat. He rummaged through a bag before standing up, holding something in his hand.
“You want a sandwich?” he asked.
“What? No. There’s a dead person on your car and you want to know if I’d like a sandwich?”
“Well there’s no need to be rude. I’m just trying to share.”
“It still seems wrong.”
“So do you want it or not?”
My best friend had just committed murder. I was a conspirator and witness. We were now standing at 11:42pm in the cold night air, waiting for the police to show up and arrest us. And yet.
“Alright. What kind of sandwich?”




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