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Date: 4/12/43
Location: Linsdale, NY
Mood: sweaty
I was just taking out a few last loads of trash when I ran into a nextdoor neighbor, Jeana. She expressed condolences and corroborated my suspicions that my father had not been taking adequate care of himself for months. She said she wished she had called me. I absolved her of responsibility. I was his son, after all.
Then she told me something funny. She said that even though it’s been incredibly hot (unseasonably so, even for April) she noticed that dad had been using the chimney a lot. And, apparently, just a few nights before his death, he even had a small bonfire in the backyard.
I didn’t find any evidence of a fire in the backyard but when I looked in the fireplace I saw she was right. It had been freshly used. There were curls of charred paper inside. I picked up a few of the scraps to see what my father had been burning. They appeared to be some kind of legal correspondence. I thought maybe they were related to drafts of his will but then I recognized a Murdock Corp. logo on one of the papers. Definitely odd but then I realized I had to clean the goddamn fireplace too. I want to get away from this house as soon as possible.
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