Wednesday, October 14, 2009
The Boy With a Thorn in His Side
The eyes were still his, but the light behind them had gone out. I didn't know if I could replace the bulb, or how. He spoke in sickening circles and dialects that he absorbed from t.v., movies, and whatever was left of his imagination. I didn't know how long I could continue to do it alone. I also couldn't fathom how anyone else ever had. There was something more than wrong with being alone in this leg of the race. He was alone and fighting a battle that only he could fight and I was alone with what felt like death gripping my chest as I watched.