The Conqueror of Dull MysteriesDonald Illich
Planting a flag in the Who-Didn’t-Care- Who-Did-It, the conqueror defeats the easiest puzzles detectives leave unsolved for harder mysteries across town. He points to missing glasses on a nurse’s head. Uncovers a boy who ate the chocolate chip cookies by finding crumbs on his hands. He tells the attorney why his wife left him by disclosing her “Dear John” letter, explains to a weeping mother her son died last week because he wore an Army uniform in a faraway desert. The simplest problem is who deposited all the skeletons in wooden boxes at the city limits. Several anxious sons and daughters need to know before they can talk to their kids about their parents’ transformations into bone. He finds the perpetrator in broad daylight, drinking beers at the State Fair, his scythe leaning against a post, a blue ribbon pinned to his robes. I win every year, he says, look at the results. A warehouse filled with captive souls, each stall imprisoning something someone prized.
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