THE CANDLE WAS SPENT IN MOURNING
'There's a dime's difference between you and me,' he said,
turning the wheel of some old grinding stone 'that's the difference
between a mission and an admission, you understand?' I nodded.
'What it means is that we're pretty close to each other in
goals but entirely different in execution.' I really didn't
like the use of that word at all - since he was crazy and
had already done time for shooting someone a few
years back. He carried a small gun inside his bootleg.
He had a knife concealed at his belt. He liked to say
he was like Daniel Boone - 'always willing to talk
but always well-armed.' I didn't know a thing.
By that comparison I was water already under
his bridge, a berth without a boat. That was
years ago. I just found out he's dead: killed
in a biker brawl in East Hempstead, Long Island.
Just goes to show, there's no telling for taste.
No reason for what men do.
It all comes down to strength,
or some simple form of
a really personal
fortitude
used
well.
'There's a dime's difference between you and me,' he said,
turning the wheel of some old grinding stone 'that's the difference
between a mission and an admission, you understand?' I nodded.
'What it means is that we're pretty close to each other in
goals but entirely different in execution.' I really didn't
like the use of that word at all - since he was crazy and
had already done time for shooting someone a few
years back. He carried a small gun inside his bootleg.
He had a knife concealed at his belt. He liked to say
he was like Daniel Boone - 'always willing to talk
but always well-armed.' I didn't know a thing.
By that comparison I was water already under
his bridge, a berth without a boat. That was
years ago. I just found out he's dead: killed
in a biker brawl in East Hempstead, Long Island.
Just goes to show, there's no telling for taste.
No reason for what men do.
It all comes down to strength,
or some simple form of
a really personal
fortitude
used
well.
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