I thought I killed her.
She was dead that was for sure. The only question was whether or not I was responsible. The whole affair is rather hazy. Everything was going along fine, everybody was behaving and reacting just as they should. Then for some reason, having something to do with a missed phone call, I found myself in a fit of rage. I sort of blacked out. I was at least experiencing some sort of out of body phenomenon. And when I turned around, she was dead. At first I didn’t think so but as I checked for signs of life, I knew. She was no more.
I was inconsolable. What was I going to do? My roommate was going to kill me.
I tried with every fiber in my being to resuscitate her. I dredged up knowledge for bringing back life that I thought had been lost in the cobwebs of my mind. Finally at the brink of exhaustion, it was unequivocally apparent. She was indeed deceased. And yes my roommate was angry.
But being the upstanding guy he is, he removed the carcass from the apartment with a quick assurance that he would take care of it. But if he found out that I was indeed responsible, I would pay and pay dearly.
But I just found out this afternoon that it was a motherboard problem and not the software that I installed, so I’m in the clear.
Phew, what a load of my mind.