And We Slipped Away
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[Editor's note: This rare example of ambidextrous, automatic writing was recovered from a séance conducted by Mlle Renée-Sophie Dumont at a private residence in Beauvais on 14 Aug 1931. Mlle Dumont produced the document while entranced, and wrote simultaneously with a pen in each hand. The original text is in English, a language that the young lady does not speak.]

I raised my weapon. I centered my aim. I pulled the trigger.

I didn't hear the shot

and I didn't feel the pain, but I knew I'd been hit. I staggered forward one step, maybe two, and then fell
face first onto the ground. It was a perfectly placed head wound, and I knew that he was dead.

I did not regret

anything I'd done, but I wanted to hold her one last time.

I was not sorry. If only I could tell her

Everything would be different now. I wouldn't have changed anything.

My eyes fell upon

the bloodly red remnants of his shattered skull. a patch of brilliant sunlight on the dewy green grass.

That sight would stay with me for the rest of my life,

horrible so beautiful

but I had no regrets. no regrets.

I heard footsteps approaching rapidly

so I turned towards the shadows but my eyelids grew heavy

and I slipped away and I slipped away

into the dark.

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