A Lifetime of Running

More of my checkered past during my 19th century life emerged a couple days ago.  I had suspected I killed a man in a fight in the 1850s and now I’m pretty sure that’s the case.  I don’t remember the place or circumstances.  All I remember is that I punched him too hard and he was simply gone.  He fell and didn’t get up.  A woman shouted “you killed him! You killed him!”

I feel worse about this than anyone I killed during my subsequent life in WWI.  Why?  Was it because I was desensitized to it?  Did the war warp my moral compass?

Or was it the fact that at least during the war I paid with my life whereas in this earlier life I escaped justice?  I stayed one step ahead of the hangman and very likely died in my 60s.  Under self-regression I saw myself getting drunk at a crew party after an opera and falling into a river, but I’ve also seen flashes of the fall of the Paris Commune of 1870 so I’m not sure.

I don’t think I was ever caught and executed though;  I can’t find any known executions that match the facts of that life, anyhow.



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