I never thought I’d be up on first degree murder charges. The proof is in the numbers. I know this. But they don’t. I’m a vacuum cleaner salesman. I used to sell shoes, but now I sell Kirby’s. I run door to door and try to sell my G8 Kirby upright vacuums. The killing has nothing to do with me, but one of the people I had just done a presentation for was murdered minutes after I left their house. I’m innocent. This is my story. Call it a diary. I won’t lock it. Besides, I don’t have a lock or anything metal in my prison cell. They don’t allow those things. So I will write my tale and let everyone know what I do and how I do it so they can see that I’m not a murderer. I can’t afford a lawyer from the money I make selling vacuums, but I’ve got legal aid, although that’s worth nothing. Maybe the Judge will read this. It’s lights out so I’ll write in the dim glow I get from across the corridor. It’s a short story so I’ll be brief but there’s two things you need to know up front. I only got caught because I had Mrs.
