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little bird in my hand, in my hand where I felt its heart beat. It was
warm. I went up to my room. From time to time I squeezed it tighter;
its heart beat faster; it was atrocious and delicious. I was nearly
choking it. But I could not see the blood.
Then I took scissors, short nail scissors, and I cut its throat in
three strokes, quite gently. It opened its bill, it struggled to escape
me, but I held it, oh! I held it--I could have held a mad dog--and I
saw the blood trickle.
And then I did as assassins do--real ones. I washed the scissors and
washed my hands. I sprinkled water, and took the body, the corpse, to
the garden to hide it. I buried it under a strawberry-plant. It will
never be found. Every day I can eat a strawberry from that plant. How
one can enjoy life, when one knows how!
My servant cried; he thought his bird flown. How could he suspect me?
Ah!
August 25. I must kill a man! I must!
August 30. It is done. But what a little thing! I had gone for a walk
in the forest of Vernes. I was thinking of nothing, literally nothing.
See! a child on the road, a little child eating a slice of bread and
butter. He stops to see me pass and says, "Good day, Mr. President."
And the thought enters my head: "Shall I kill him?"
I answer: "You are alone, my boy?"
"Yes, sir."
"All alone in the wood?"
"Yes, sir."
The wish to kill him intoxicated me like wine. I approached him quite
softly, persuaded that he was going to run away. And suddenly I seized
him by the throat. He held my wrists in his little hands, and his body
writhed like a feather on the fire. Then he moved no more. I threw the
body in the ditch, then some weeds on top of it. I returned home and
dined well. What a little thing it was! In the evening I was very gay,
light, rejuvenated, and passed the evening at the Prefect's. They found
me witty. But I have not seen blood! I am not tranquil.
August 31. The body has been discovered. They are hunting for the
assassin. Ah!
September 1. Two tramps have been arrested. Proofs are lacking.
September 2. The parents have been to see me. They wept! Ah!
October 6. Nothing has been discovered. Some strolling vagabond must
have done the deed. Ah! If I had seen the blood flow it seems to me I
should be tranquil now!
October 10. Yet another. I was walking by the river, after breakfast.
And I saw, under a willow, a fisherman asleep. It was noon. A spade, as
if expressly put there for me, was
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