The Unreliable Narrator

A great crime: she has plunged a dagger into the heart of her mother. Strange. The strangest thing: a mocking little pride with a sinister click as of a fitting together of bad pieces. Beyond knowing. The mesmerist’s only child. A certain indication of anemia, too much candy, and her charming eyes. A privilege to be near her. My inspiriation. I risk an approach, what I call “the light of day.” Movements, with perfect indifference, turn place and shrink.One might have seen less: