YOU ARE NOT THE
CUMBERSOME ONE
I spoke to a criminal this morning; an arch-mind intent on
getting away, sure he'd not be caught. It seemed as if,
already, he was held in shackles. Imaginary though they
be, they had a hold. His one-step-forward, two-steps-
back routine was funny, as if only he needed to
convince himself that things were going right.
-
I told him I wouldn't visit him in prison, wanted no
part of that. He laughed, and called me a candy-ass
for taking no chances. 'My Milk Dud to your
Payday,' I laughingly said. He didn't get
my joke at all.
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