I often wonder that, when I look back on my life, I will have achieved nothing. It is strange I know, but I’m nearly 30 and as yet I cannot think of one single thing in my past which would make interesting reading to anyone – should I become a writer I suppose.
My autobiography would be small. I wouldn’t even be able to accept the advance I’d feel so guilty.
I suppose apart from the robbery. Oh, and that one time when I kidnapped the mayor’s daughter. Well, kidnapped is probably too strong a word. It was her idea as daddy hadn’t given her the ferrari she had been after or some such nonsense. Of course, when he didn’t pay up, we had to send him a finger and while she wasn’t all that keen on that part of the plan, she did give in eventually. Under duress and the threat of ether of course. I wonder if I shouldn’t have used the ether even though she said she would comply. Had to be safe of course; how could I believe someone who had come up with such a devious scheme in the first place?