I have kept journals for most of my life. Some were in formal diaries, like the locked ones I had when I was a teenager, with covers sporting replicas of faces smiling, a surreptitious warning not ...
The journal reads: "He was a three-year-old Maltese. I kept him one night and killed him the next day. He tries to pull away, but I don't let him. Instead, I choke him out by strangling him over ...