An unnamed narrator opens the story by addressing the reader and claiming that he is nervous but not mad. He says that he is going to tell a story in which he will defend his sanity yet confess to having killed an old man. Again, he insists that he is not crazy because his cool and measured actions, though criminal, are not those of a madman. In the morning, he would behave as if everything were normal. After a week of this activity, the narrator decides, somewhat randomly, that the time is right actually to kill the old man.
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The disease had sharpened my senses --not destroyed --not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell.
An unnamed narrator is the nightly intruder that watches the old man sleep. He must put an end to the evil eye that haunts his days and visits his dreams. He must be so quiet as he sneaks into the black as pitch chamber
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