Why had I been in the supermarket? That’s a good question. I needed a can. A can of what, you ask? Oh, it didn’t really matter. I just needed a can. A metal can. Several actually. I had been aiming for one with not much in it to start with, but that’s hard to judge from the outside of the can. I was going to discard the contents anyway, but the less in there already the better.
What did I need the cans for? Don’t worry about that. I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure it out. You seem like the kind who wants answers and will do anything to get them. I bet you can figure it out.
Now back to the supermarket. It was a little after one in the morning when I finally arrived. My date was out cold in the back of my car. She had had a bit too much fun at the party that night, and she wasn’t going to wake up for a while. I let her sleep and covered her with a blanket since it was a bit chilly that night. The doors to the car were locked so she wouldn’t be disturbed. You wouldn’t believe what some people would do to a vulnerable girl like that. Sickens me.
The wind blew hard, and I welcomed the warmth of the supermarket. I always welcomed a supermarket so late at night. There’s a sort of magic to it. Virtually no one’s there, and the workers, when encountered, aren’t much of a bother. Every aisle is empty and all the registers are free. It’s a modern Garden of Eden to me.
I had the layout of the store memorized - after all, I came here often. The canned goods aisle was near the end of the store and I made my way straight there. When I got there, I found a lone worker stocking the shelves.
How wonderful.
This petite little blonde was the weed in my Garden of Eden. While I said I didn’t mind the workers in this store so late into the night, I didn’t want them to be near me as I perused the cans. They would question why I looked so specifically at the labels and shook them to hear their insides. It could make them curious; they would ask questions and start to watch me. I’d have to find a whole new supermarket to go to.
But then again, maybe this weed won’t hurt my Garden.
I picked up a can of corn. The weight of it ruined its chances. But maybe that was just the liquid inside-
“Is the Neighborhood Watch sign look a normal one for you?” she said.
The weed choked the beautiful flowers of solidarity.
“Do I look that suspicious to you?” I replied, giving her a smile to try and dissuade her curiosity. I put the can down.
“Most men in long black coats do. Especially with the collar up like you have it,” she continued.
“The wind was bothering me. It’s rather chilly out tonight.”
“I heard it’s supposed to be worse tomorrow.”
Please, please stop talking. I have things to get done and you need to leave.
“Well, winter’s just around the corner.” I took up inspecting a can of carrots. Maybe if I seemed deep in contemplation she’d-
“I heard it’s supposed to be a bad one.”
Goodness woman do you have an off switch?
“Probably not any worse than last year was.”
“Hopefully.”
The sweet release from small talk pleased me. She was still stocking the shelves, and there were several other boxes she hadn’t gotten to yet, but I bet she’d leave me alone now.
The carrots were too full. The peaches seemed to be my best bet, but there might be an even better choice. I just had to-
“So what are you doing here so late at night?” she asked.
Oh for the love of all that is holy.
“I don’t really know.”
“A hankering for the delicious taste of the canned goods?”
“You know there’s nothing better at 2 in the morning.”
She laughed. It was such a pleasant laugh. Like a bell. It was almost infectious. Almost.
“I heard that cinnamon apples taste best late at night.” She picked up a can and handed it to me. “This type especially.”
Her voice. Her voice was, light, and just as pleasant as her laugh had been. Why didn’t I take notice before?
I took the can from her. The label read Syrup Coated Cinnamon Apple Slices. It wasn’t too heavy of a can, but it was still more than I was looking for. But, I couldn’t say no. I set it in the basket on my arm. “Thank you. I’ll be sure to remember that.”
She smiled and went back to stocking.
What a nice smile. So warm and friendly.
Maybe I was wrong about her being a weed.
“So what do you do? Like as a job?” she asked.
Job? I don’t have a job, actually. I just have an obsessive hobby.
“Well that’s a sort of hard question to answer.” I said.
“Not really. It’s just your job.”
“I’m, well, I’m unemployed, sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“I have a hobby that takes up most of my time. It’s sort of like a job.”
“What hobby is that?”
How do I describe it without giving too much away? I can’t make her the least bit suspicious of me. I can’t let her figure out who I am. Then again, I highly doubt she’d figure it out even if I told her the truth. She’d think I was joking.
Could I try it?
No, no, no! Why would I have told her? Maybe I had been wrong about my previous assumption. Or maybe she was worse than a weed in my Garden of Eden. Maybe she was the serpent, tempting me to reveal who I really was. What I’ve done. I couldn’t let her know.
“People watching, in a way.” I said.
“And you consider that your job? How much do you people watch? Are you a stalker or something?”
It sounded like she was joking. What a horrible thing to joke about.
But she wasn’t too far from the truth.
“No, no,” I said. I attempted to play it off with a laugh. What could I have say instead? The more I thought the more I felt the temptation to tell her the truth rise within me. But I couldn’t. Even as a joke. At least I didn’t think I could. But what do I say? What kind of people watch others as a hobby?
“I’m an artist.” I said. I hadn’t drawn since I was in grade school. But then again, what I did could be considered art. After all, art is subjective.
“Oh really?”
I nodded. My gaze wandered back to the cans. I took a few of the peaches and put them in my basket. It was a good can for holding things.
“Are you any good?” She asked.
I looked over a can of beans. They could do. “I personally think I do a great job. Some acquaintances of mine are interested in my work, but I don’t think I’ll show it to them anytime soon. I’m still trying to get better at it. There are certainly some other people I want to surpass before I show anyone, honestly.”
Stop talking. I’ll give myself away with speeches like this. That temptress is working her dark magic on me. She’s going to get me to spill the truth at this rate.
“You’re very ambitious. I’d love to see your work if you start showing it to people.” She said.
“Maybe you’ll become part of my work.”
I almost dropped the can of beans I was moving to my basket. Why did I say that? She’ll know. She has to know after a line like that. Why can’t I watch my tongue better?
“Are you saying you’d draw me?”
What?
Did she? Did she just save me? From an explanation? Did she just give me a way out of this hole I dug for myself?
I was so wrong about her being the weed, the serpent. This woman was my Eve.
“I don’t know.” I said. I couldn’t make her a part of my art. I liked her. She was such a pleasant person. I couldn’t do it.
“You know when you walked into this aisle, I thought you were really creepy.” She said. “You just give off that vibe.”
“I do?”
“Yeah. I think it’s just the fact you need to shave and get a haircut. And the black coat didn’t help either, honestly.”
Well, I didn’t want to get rid of the coat. I rather like it. But I could shave and cut my hair. That’s not too hard. It might keep curious eyes away from me, too.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I said.
She resumed stocking. I took two more cans off the shelf. I looked down into the basket. 12. That should be enough.
I told her goodbye and she smiled. Such a beautiful smile.
After I bought the cans, I sat in my car in silence. I hadn’t asked the girl’s name. I should have. I was too busy worrying about giving myself away I didn’t ask anything about her.
My date continued to sleep in the back - I forgot she was there, actually. I needed to get her home.
Maybe next time I can ask her name.

And that’s what happened.
What? That’s not what you wanted to hear? You want to know what I did with the bodies?
I thought you wanted to hear about how I found the one person I’d never hurt.
But of course you don’t.
And regarding what I did with the bodies, you must not have been paying attention to the story very closely.