Had a jolly old time this evening walking behind a young woman at dusk along a quiet road whistling Psycho Killer.
You remember – the song from the nineteen seventies by Talking Heads:
Psycho killer,
Qu’est-ce que c’est
Fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa fa far better
Run run run run run run run away.
Well, obviously she had never heard of it because she did not turn around to look. Except for once – right at the end, just before the road went into the darkest, loneliest place where the only company is trees and undergrowth.
But by then it was too late.
I had already turned off along a side road.
I had seen her get her mobile phone out. Modern technology is such a bane.
Diary of a Psychokiller 