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Nocturnes: Not Very Many Visits [Niner Liner]
You rarely visited that distant branch of the family, and the kid
who, at the age of five giggled hysterically at the beetle that
strugled and failed to right itself; then, at eleven, laughed at the
puppy neglected by its owner, the neighbor (without fresh water;
until a passerby provided a cold drink, than called the rescuers);
and then, at seventeen, rolled a drunk in an alley, doused him with
lighter fluid and tossed a lit match upon him. Now, at nineteen, confined
to the asylum where you work, his eyes reveal to your eyes that he knows
what you have planned for him, and he knows no rational soul will believe him.
Starward
