A real two of a kind, those two.
Meant to be. Everyone always said they would last til death did them part.
And they did. Side by side right up to the end.
Not sure we should’ve buried them together. What with no one sure yet which was the murder and which the suicide.
It was most talked about file in the building.
Everybody claimed to know what was in it. Who it would hurt most when it went public.
That was the one thing they agreed on. That it would go public and blow the lid off of everything.
I just ignored all the talk. I knew I had nothing to worry about. Cause I did know what was it in. Hell, I had wrote it.
And they were right. It was going to bring a lot of people down.
Unless they accepted my offer.
Just a raggedy old thing.
But if it could talk, oh the stories it would have.
The people who have slept under it. The nights spent wrapped around others. The times it was clenched in a small hand.
The washing, mendings, and additions.
So much history. Touchable history.
I’ve never seen one before, have you?
I mean, I’ve heard them described. Who hasn’t really. But actually seeing one, huh, really different.
And not where I would ever think of seeing one. I mean, everyone comes here. It could have been anyone besides us who saw it. Anyone.
You think it means something, that it was us who saw it instead of someone else? Like it was supposed to be us?
Meant for us, even?
Yeah, I know we should tell somebody. Just wait a minute. I wanna look some more.
Who do you think he was?
Oh, I totally agree with you. Never mind what he said, it was the way he said it most of all.
He told me he was going to keep quiet about it, swore on his life.
Guess his life wasn’t worth more than being right.
Of course it was your idea to tell him. Even after I said you shouldn’t. Even though you knew what happened before.
But hey, glass houses and everything, right?
Course, I learned from my mistake.
Oh, I’ve tried, believe you me.
Sometimes I come close, but more often I end up doing the same things, making the same choices.
I’ve become better at damage control than at seeing ways out.
So I thank you for your concern, but believe me when I tell you that it’s wasted.
Find another lost cause, you’ll be happier.
And frankly, so will I.
What am I saying, of course you knew.
And you let me go on with it. To watch me swinging in the breeze like an idiot.
Yeah, very funny. Hope you enjoyed yourself. Hope you laughed your ass off.
Hope you’re good at looking over your shoulder 24/7.
At discerning between harmless noises and those maybe you better check out. And being sure you know who is your friend and who likes me better.
But no need to start right away. Oh no, I’ll give you plenty of time to get comfortable and settled in. To forget my words, to not take them seriously.
Your face will be more priceless that way.
That’s how you leave me every time.
Just watching you when you don’t realize I am. Studying how you move, trying to catch the song you’re singing to yourself.
I could never list all the reasons that you affect me. And each day a different one is at the fore.
How glad I am to have the opportunity to try.
You knew what that meant to me.
How long I worked for the money to get it. The plans I made. How hard I worked to keep it a secret, to surprise everyone.
And what did you do? You made sure you were home today when it arrived. Signed for it and then just waited for me to get home.
I heard your scream through the door as you opened it. You knew i had ordered enough to kill them all. That you would be a hero, but you didn’t have the guts to report me. So you figured you’d take it, martyr yourself.
You dumb bastard. Should have known I wouldn’t have it come all in one package. There was only enough for one person in the package you opened.
The one person I knew would open it.
Things come in threes, they say.
Double the pleasure, double the fun.
So when the two came together, it was more than any could have suspected.
Six of them, hitting one after the other. Each by itself would have left you reeling. All of them were unbearable.
Devastation would have been a kind word to use.
Six pack was once a term used benignly.
Never again by those left afterward. Those generations unborn at the time who would forever fear it. Who whispered it, as if the sound carried too far would call to it.
Bring it back.