Crime and Punishment.

I guess that I'll have to pay for this sooner or later. I suppose that I'll have to go to prison and have some counsellor tell me why I am like I am and why I did what I did ' but not now. I can't be arsed. I'm far too pleased with my crime at the moment ' the punishment can wait.
And anyway, maybe I won't get caught. It's only in the movies that people always end up getting what they deserve. Real life doesn't always abide by those rules: good things frequently happen to bad people, and vice versa. Sometimes crime pays.
But yeah, I guess that you want to know what I'm talking about. And I bet that you're thinking: after such a grand build-up over the last few paragraphs, it can only be a disappointment. I mean, murder doesn't really interest people these days. Who gives a fuck if someone bludgeons their husband to death with a frozen leg of lamb, or a disgruntled postal worker starts gunning down people in the street? Either you've seen it in the cinema already or you've seen it on CNN ' after those twin towers came down, everything else seems pretty damn pedestrian.
Except rape, I suppose. Rape never fails to get peoples' attention. And child-porn ' all that nonsense. Parents don't scare their children with stories about the bogeyman these days: now it's paedophiles that lurk in the wardrobes and roam the woods at night. All because of the papers, of course. They've got us thinking that every old man who walks past a primary school is most likely a pervert and deserves to be chased out of town by a torch-wielding mob ' but I'm digressing.
I'm not a paedophile. Or a rapist.
No, no - I've done something far, far worse.
I smoked in a bus shelter, today.
No one saw me, I don't think ' but who knows? Maybe the torch-wielding mob is assembling as I speak.