I’m reading Stephen King’s new short story collection, All Dark, No Stars. The final story in the book is about a woman who discovers that her husband of twenty-five years is a serial killer. Pretty creepy. The guy is an accountant, a father and a Cub Scout leader. And apparently the brutal killer of young women.
I told Elysha earlier today that I never want to find out that she is a serial killer.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “You’d never find out.”
Amusing. But a little creepy, too.