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Neighborhood PsychopathThere is a murderer living in my neighborhood. He is a silent killer, a dark silhouette against a stark white frame of silver. He is free of restraints, free of bonds, free of laws. He has not been caught once by the police, despite their many vain attempts. Even some scientists have tried to assist in his capture, but he still remains a free man to this day.
I am waiting by my bus stop when I see his slim figure leaning against a wall, flicking a cigarette in the air. I decide to strike up some conversation, seeing as he is so notorious around these parts.
"Hey, uh " I trail off.
He turns his head to lock eyes with me. "Hey. Wanna know my name?" he asks.
"Sure," I reply hesitantly.
"A-I-D-S," he pronounces slowly, spelling out each letter.
"Is that from some foreign country or anoth-"
"Nope," he cuts me off, "it's an acronym."
"Your name is an acronym?" I ask, surprised.
He exhales a puff of smoke. "Yeah. Wanna know what it stands for?"
"Sure," I say for the seco
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