“Ninety five days after. I wake from a feverish dream, my body covered in sweat. At the sink I gulp down an entire glass of water, taking a good minute or two before my breath returns to normal. I stood by her side and watched, unable to do anything at all, while she was raped and murdered in front of my eyes. It’s a dream I’ve had before, a number of times, only this time, my wife wasn’t Alice, it was Jo. I can’t get back to sleep so I decide to go for my run earlier than normal. The sun still ...isn’t up, so I take a high visibility bike jacket and dress against the cold. It’s freezing outside and until I’m up to pace I consider giving up and waiting until later. My thoughts are jumbled. Running usually helps me clear my mind, but even after two or three miles, there is still no sign of that happening. I find myself thinking about Jo, and the man who raped her. I’m angry about what happened to her. Angry in a way I wasn’t before and a way that is similar to the feelings I have for the man that attacked Alice.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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