Astonished, he told the stone, “What have you done?”
“I’ve killed her,” it answered.
“Why though? What had she done to you?”
“Because I wanted to kill her.”
“But then… you killed out of mere impulse?”
“Yes. I’m a stone now, am I not?”
“You are, but…”
“There is no complexity for stones. I am made of impulse.”
“This is murder!” he shouted. “It needs to be thought through! There should be a motive at least.”
“No. With stones, the motive is the impulse. The motive is merely my desire to kill.”
The man stared at the bloody stone, befuddled, convinced, and frightened. Then he dropped it on the body and ran away.