16,087. TO TAKE THE MAGAZINE TAXI HOME

TO TAKE THE 

MAGAZINE 

TAXI HOME

The destination was never in doubt, though

I myself never knew it. I wanted to be alone,

and to be kept to myself, in silence. Noise

and talk is just noise and talk. See?

-

This was a fantasy in dead silence. I'd made

up a story that I could walk right into, though

something lame, when I was killing them

dead on stage in Halifax, Nova Scotia, and

that walk through Laramie, Wyoming, with

my carbines at the ready?

-

But it was a story I could never return from.

I only found that out too late.