Thomas Sands future path was mapped out and implanted on his soul. He let his mind travel through the rampant winds of all his yesterdays remembering. Thomas had been fully aware of paths taken could lead to happiness or sorrow. He sat looking at the blood splatters across the bed; Tamara Sands had been a beautiful woman, his wife of only one year. She wanted to leave him. He had found proof her infidelity. Thomas Sands had killed his wife; then turned the gun on himself, his judgment, his reason. He lay down next to her before pulling the trigger.
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