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I don’t exist, well…technically I don’t exist.  What I mean to say is that no one who has ever met me would admit to it.  Which is basically the same thing.

It is an interesting state of being, namelessness.  It offers amazing amounts of opportunity to those creative enough to make use of it.

Let me explain.  People notice things, but not a lack of the same thing.  For instance…your car being repossessed surprises and upsets you, but its lack of repossession elicits no response.  Now more specifically dead bodies, when found, cause quite a stir.  Question after question. Was it natural, murder, suicide?  Who was this person, and how did this happen?  Who could have done this, and why?  These questions can echo out into unforeseeable situations.  However, if no body is found then no one reacts.  Of course there are exceptions, but the number of people who make as many waves by being missing as they do by being dead is relatively small.

I make the latter happen.

Do you regrettably, have a little problem that needs disposed of?  I just might know of an open grave that could be of service, a foundation ready for concrete, or a half full barrel of sulfuric acid.  And for the right price your little problem can become one of my little secrets.

So if you find yourself in a sticky situation you better wish upon a star that I find you and your bank account worthy…because Jiminy Cricket ain’t got nothing on me.

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