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Nay; I wouldn’t have believed I could take anyone’s life; even if I’d been told
so moments before I murdered that fool; and thus; my offense at times recedes
from me like a foreign galleon disappearing on the horizon。 Now and again; I
even feel as if I haven’t mitted any crime at all。 Four days have passed
since I was forced to do away with hapless Elegant; who was a brother to me;
and only now have I; to some extent; accepted my situation。
I would’ve preferred to resolve this unexpected and awful dilemma without
having to do away with anybody; but I knew there was no other choice。 I
handled the matter then and there; assuming the burden of responsibility。 I
couldn’t let the false accusations of one foolhardy man endanger the entire
society of miniaturists。
Nevertheless; being a murderer takes some getting used to。 I can’t stand
being at home; so I head out to the street。 I can’t stand my street; so I walk on
to another; and then another。 As I stare at people’s faces; I realize that many of
them believe they’re innocent because they haven’t yet had the opportunity to
snuff out a life。 It’s hard to believe that most men are more moral or better
than me simply on account of some minor twist of fate。 At most; they wear
somewhat stupider expressions because they haven’t yet killed; and like all
fools; they appear to have good intentions。 After I took care of that pathetic
man; wandering the streets of Istanbul for four days was enough to confirm
that everyone with a gleam of cleverness in his eye and the shadow of his soul
cast across his face was a hidden ass
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