Well, in this case—if you don’t want to get caught and charged for murder, dispose of the body yourself. It feels like ten o’clock at night, but it’s only five P.M. As fucked as it is after dealing with human body parts, I’m in the mood for a mean ass burger. My favorite burger joint is right off of 3" Avenue, and not too far of a drive from my house. Parking is a bitch in Seattle, so I’m forced to park a few blocks away and walk there. A storm is rolling in, and soon sheets of rain will be descending on our heads and shoulders like icepicks—typical Seattle weather. I whistle an unnamed tune as I walk down the street, passing shops and an array of stores with people bustling in and out like a bunch of worker ants. Ahead of me, there’s a bookstore lit up, the warm glow shining onto the cold, wet pavement and inviting passersby into its warmth. As I near, I notice it’s packed full of people. I spare it a single glance before moving on. I don’t care about fiction books—I only read the ones that are going to teach me something. Particularly about computer science and hacking. By now, there’s nothing those books can teach me anymore. I’ve mastered and then surpassed it. As I’m turning my head to look at some other shit, my eyes get caught up on a board right outside the bookstore, a smiling face beaming back at me.