Writing Wrong And Death

Hi Fred, this is Alan next door.

I have a confession to make. I’ve been feeling guilty these past few months and have been trying to pluck up the courage to tell you, but at least I’m telling you now in a text message as I feel bad about you not knowing.

The truth is I have been sharing your wife a lot lately. In fact, probably more than you. I haven’t been able to get it at home recently, but that’s no excuse, I know.

The temptation was too much. I feel so guilty and I hope you will accept my sincerest apologies. It won’t happen again. Please suggest a usage fee and I’ll pay you.
Regards, Alan. Fred, feeling betrayed and insulted, grabbed his gun, rushed next door and shot his neighbor dead. He returned home, poured himself a stiff drink and sat down on the sofa to reflect. Then he took out his phone and saw he had a second message from his neighbor: Hi Fred, Alan here again. Sorry about the typo on my last text. I guess you figured it out anyway – the damned Auto-Correct changed ‘wi-fi’ to ‘wife.’ Technology, hey?

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