it happened later, and why not? the guilt was overwhelming but he was breaking inside, or had broken. now his skin was like a trashbag, something to transport the garbage in. when it first started happening, it was as if there was a howling of wind some great force, a sign before the death of something, someone, many people.
he said to himself, "i feel as if i'm going insane." he thought, "i have too much energy and yet, none at all." and finally, "i am between a rock and a hard place."
the radio was on in the evening. its program was a biography about some writer whose work was found to be valuable only after he was dead. the people that knew him said that that would be the way he wanted it - quiet and monk - like, virtual living quarters in a cave.
"and so, he got it," the man said into the dark windows, thinking of himself, his stomach churning the two glasses of lemonade he drank too fast moments earlier. the sugar in the beverage stopping his digestion, the acid from the lemons making his guts feel sick.
i have too much time to think, he said.
and so he had.
he said to himself, "i feel as if i'm going insane." he thought, "i have too much energy and yet, none at all." and finally, "i am between a rock and a hard place."
the radio was on in the evening. its program was a biography about some writer whose work was found to be valuable only after he was dead. the people that knew him said that that would be the way he wanted it - quiet and monk - like, virtual living quarters in a cave.
"and so, he got it," the man said into the dark windows, thinking of himself, his stomach churning the two glasses of lemonade he drank too fast moments earlier. the sugar in the beverage stopping his digestion, the acid from the lemons making his guts feel sick.
i have too much time to think, he said.
and so he had.
ps- my cat pee wee sends his extra cuddly kitten love your way *purr*