I wanted him to die, which isn’t to say I wanted to kill him. Perhaps in an accident. I imagined the car wrecks I so desperately hoped he would get in. In my dreams he forgets to do his safety buckle one night, his brakes go out as he rounds a sharp turn. The car launches over the guardrail, he is thrown from his seat through the windshield. As his face smashes through the safety glass, he has one final thought: “This is very-”
Very what? He wouldn’t have time to finish the thought.
No comments:
Post a Comment