I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen, and I've seen what I seen.
There was nothing there.
The next segment tells of a gruesome murder that happened in 1984, and the steps that should be followed to solve it. A family of three, a single mother and two sons, were found in their living room, tv still on and dinner going cold, their (...)
The image had become imprinted on the forefront of his brain, a looping distress that allowed him neither sleep nor rest. Gaping mouths and missing teeth mocked at all times of the day, from the backseat of his car to the underside of his bed, phantom bloodstains rusting in dirty dishes and across the pristines walls of his home only to vanish as he turned to face them.
Not one second of peace. He looked at the offered hand in a renewed light.
"A cup of coffee might be nice, actually," he said, somewhat embarrassed.