See, things aren’t as they seem.
That thick slab of concrete wall section balanced on that truck that your 19 year old son is standing beside?
It’s gonna slip off the truck and kill him in three, two, one…
Your son. Your nineteen year old, beautiful, beloved son.
Course he knew only for a second what hit him.
The end.
Hit him.
It hits everyone. Every day. The end.
When’s the end you ask?
Well, therein lies the hobby. Seeking the end.
Desperately seeking the end for children.
Searching hard for the end of adolescents. Scanning for their end, any end…
Cause the end is a beginning that sees no harm in itself.
Doesn’t see the pain it causes because it’s on to greater things.
New beginnings without whomever.
A big, ginormous new load for mama, for papa and ah, the guy who strapped that crushing load up…
The end is there waiting. It’s hiding in plain sight.
And the instant you spot the end, it vanishes.
But to where now. To where?
Barry
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