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“My obsession with Mrs. Thompson turns a shade darker each day. She’s my Lucy. My little brute. She is perfect. I must be scaring her. Oh, hell, she must be absolutely terrified by this point. That thought makes me damned jubilant. She needs to be scared. Because I? I am not a good man. Far from it. 337 days left of my sentence. I am counting the days until the fun can really begin…” — Dolores Lane
My obsession with Mrs. Thompson turns a shade darker each day.
She’s my Lucy. My little brute.
She is perfect.
I must be scaring her. Oh, hell, she must be absolutely terrified by this point. That thought makes me damned jubilant.
She needs to be scared. Because I? I am not a good man.
Far from it.
337 days left of my sentence. I am counting the days until the fun can really begin…