Nay； I wouldn’t have believed I could take anyone’s life； even if I’d been told
so moments before I murdered that fool； and thus； my offense at times recedes
from me like a foreign galleon disappearing on the horizon。 Now and again； I
even feel as if I haven’t mitted any crime at all。 Four days have passed
since I was forced to do away with hapless Elegant； who was a brother to me；
and only now have I； to some extent； accepted my situation。
I would’ve preferred to resolve this unexpected and awful dilemma without
having to do away with anybody； but I knew there was no other choice。 I
handled the matter then and there； assuming the burden of responsibility。 I
couldn’t let the false accusations of one foolhardy man endanger the entire
society of miniaturists。
Nevertheless； being a murderer takes some getting used to。 I can’t stand
being at home； so I head out to the street。 I can’t stand my street； so I walk on
to another； and then another。 As I stare at people’s faces； I realize that many of
them believe they’re innocent because they haven’t yet had the opportunity to
snuff out a life。 It’s hard to believe that most men are more moral or better
than me simply on account of some minor twist of fate。 At most； they wear
somewhat stupider expressions because they haven’t yet killed； and like all
fools； they appear to have good intentions。 After I took care of that pathetic
man； wandering the streets of Istanbul for four days was enough to confirm
that everyone with a gleam of cleverness in his eye and the shadow of his soul
cast across his face was a hidden ass