Welcome to Mystery Monday. This week, we continue with Murder at the Conference.
Last week, we finished chapter 1. So this week, we start with chapter 2.
It didn't take too long to walk home. One part of me wanted to make a detour and go and get some udon tempura. It was an habit I had taken months ago when walking home from Japanese classes on Thursday nights. Good habits die hard. Bad habits die harder, I supposed. I still remembered the feeling. Being very hungry after work but not having time to stop for anything before going to class and having trouble concentrating on my one hour and a half session, knowing that I could take away my noodles and fried panned shrimp in a bit. It was good, maybe I could do it again later. The classes hadn't started back yet, it was early summer break.
I didn't take the detour and just walked on. I passed the street with the Indian restaurant far away from it, knowing that Christa and my ex-boyfriend were probably still there, waiting a bit to go to karaoke or play darts. Thinking back about it, the guy had a pattern I didn't really like. He didn't know the meaning of a quiet evening at home. Even if we went home, there was always a time to go out and play something, anything. He needed his play as much as I needed a good book and going out in a room filled with tobacco and loud chatter never missed to give me a headache. Now it was Christa's turn to go through it. She never complained about it though, she always seem to enjoy anything and everything they did but sometimes I wonder if that forced cheerfulness wasn't directed at me, just to make me see how good he was and I had lost him and she was the lucky one.
The pedestrian cross light turned green and I crossed the street before turning under the bridge and walk along the railway to get home. So many things had happened here. With time, the tracks of the car that had kidnapped me had gone. The neighbor old lady never missed to look through her window every time I passed. I don't know how she knew at what time I was coming and going because I didn't know myself but her curtains always moved as if someone was disappearing behind them at my approach.
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