He took out her tube of cherry red lipstick he had found in her purse. "There that's perfect." He said after applying a new shade. It was like she was...sleeping beauty, except for the rope burns around her neck and the stab wound on her leg. The wounds were beautiful too though, he thought, to remind the viewer of the violent, painful death of Nozomi. He looked at her dead body as a work of art. Her death itself was a work of art as will the deaths of all his future victims. He plans on killing. 'Do you have an email', I asked one of the three men who remarked on the resemblance between my mother and me. He was in his early fifties, pot bellied and looked like a Christmas tree, with gold trinkets hanging from his wrists and neck.'Sorry', he replied, 'never really got into it', he continued apologetically, but his excitement was palatable, no doubt being confronted by the living image of something he never thought he would experience again, men back then in that environment having sex. More

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