kettle’s on

Posted on April 7, 2014. Filed under: dissociative identity disorder, schizophrenia |

“Kettle’s on,” Doc smiled, hands in pockets so I couldn’t see them super-trembling. And I wondered where he’d secreted the kitchen knife – for self-defence, naturally.

“I actually came to run a theory by you,” I began.

“Really? By me?”





“Yes.” He’d become obsessed with the word.

“Why not Bobby?”


“You usually run your theories by him. Or Harry. Why me all of a sudden?” He thought I was out to murder him. ‘Why me? Why me?’ Of all the days to let a person into his home, he’d picked this one. And of all the people, he’d picked me. If he wasn’t so frightened, he’d be kicking himself.


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