One slow murder
I sent out an email, to the wrong person.
All personal, to one of the last people on Earth who needs to see it.
You can imagine, the curses I make under my breath. And the way the world stopped spinning when I get the alert that its been read, and having the consequences running towards me like a stampede from just a mile away.
I want to transport to Bali. Now. Or wherever, with clear blue water and soft white sand. Bear with me, I have resolved to being an escapist.