Written on 6 January 2019
Sabin was worried that he was a psychopath.
He felt almost nothing for anyone except himself.
He'd read somewhere that, to qualify as a psychopath, you had to murder something fluffy and cuddly and feel nothing.
So he killed his niece’s rabbit with a hammer.
Afterwards, he was overcome by such a cocktail of sadness, regret, horror, sorrow and guilt that it haunted him for the rest of his days.
His family, naturally, never spoke to him again.