I have never said a word about any of the secrets people have shared with me over the years. Not one, even when the secrets were out, I never told anyone that I was aware of anything. I’m like a tomb that way. And many other ways too. But to me it is highly ironic; most people seem to relish the fact that they can center their conversations and thoughts, or lack thereof, around my doings. Not that it should bother me as much as that, but the whole thing began to worry me a few weeks ago. Continue reading
It pissed me off to think that he was gone without me.
Winston said there was nothing else to do now, that we were on our own, and yet I couldn’t believe it. The plan had always been to leave him behind; him, not me. Why? Sometimes we talked about how you never really know someone until they shit on your doorstep – literally or not. That particular conversation came back to me quickly, how true it had been then and how truer it was now, at this moment, when I was standing in the middle of nowhere with an utter nobody. Come, we have to move before the pigs get here, Winston said. I wanted to tell him to piss off, to get lost, but nothing came out. Continue reading