pg 48

for you,
August 12, 2009, 6:51 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

you didn’t say anything yesterday. that was the first peculiar thing. normally you speak up all the time, make little jokes, ask a leading question to move things along, that type of stuff. you might not think so but trust me, that sort of thing really is appreciated. and then, you didn’t have a cigarette with us out back when it was time to go. you left through the front door. as though somebody was picking you up. and somebody was picking you up. that was the second peculiar thing. who would pick you up? that came out wrong, or, i should have worded it differently i’m sorry. what i meant was you don’t know anybody in town, you moved here a month ago, from across the country, after buring your family and most of your friends. you were the sole survivor of the explosion that night. you had, apparently, gone to pick up your girlfriend at the time, she getting off work. you were not believed by the police, a going away party for you, moving here, where you are now, how convient, how strange that you left your own party to pick up your girlfriend, a woman who, we checked, was already planning on getting a ride from a coworker of hers and a friend of yours. your girlfriend was surprised when you pulled up, figured you would’ve been, by this point, too drunk to drive. you were. but you didn’t mention that part. didn’t need to. by the time questions were raised, it was too late for a breathalizer test. you were lucky.

and now, you are not here at work today. that was, is, the third peculiar thing. now you know me, i’m a realist, i’m pragmatic. things don’t get blown out of proportion at my house, in my house. so i take a lot of deep breaths, i count to ten a great deal. but i don’t start ringing alarm bells unless peculiarity strikes, three times, as is the case right now. so i’m writing you this note. you should, in fact, consider yourself initiated (although this is no prank; my concern for you is real) everybody here has at one time or another received such a letter from me. and now you have too. i’m worried about you. why were you so quiet last night at work, who came and picked you up afterward, and why are you not here today? when i write it down like that i realized that this is more serious than anything that has come before. with erica, i just found her crying in the bathroom. and when i asked her what it was about she said nothing, although later i overheard her through the my office window when she and everyone else here were outside having a cigarette, and she said it was about her credit card bills. can you imagine? brought to tears by your own stupidity? well that makes sense i guess, but credit cards? . i don’t think anybody knows about that, what i’m privvy to, for the low, low cost of second hand smoke. and that’s on a payment plan anyway so what the hell right?


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