the old woman told me about being in Dachau and how she befriended a young ...how do I say it? Well, I suppose she was a mentally handicapped girl we were sitting outside one day against the wall of the building they put us in and I was staring at the fence. It was an electric fence and if you came within twenty feet of it they just shoot you down where you stood I was staring at the fence, really staring- thinking about it when she said "Don't." It had been beaten out of me, I wasn't even able to lie to her I looked at her, the words wheezed out of my mouth, "But I want to." "Don't." she said again I started to stand but she grabbed my blouse by the shoulder and yanked me back down I fell on my bottom, hard angry with her and a headache for days "And why not!" I shouted I remember a couple guards turned toward us and stared, waiting the muscles in their jaws flexing gloved fingers steadied upon rifles "Because you'll never know how the story ends."
the man driving the car was looking at the girl standing at the bus stop and didn't notice the woman he drove over then the car turned around to drive past the girl again but she was in the road helping the woman lying on the pavement the man scoured the bus stop as he kept driving staring back at the sheltered bench leaving the scene of a missed opportunity until hit by a dump truck
after a few days a friend asked if I had written anything and I said, No. A week went and she asked again. I shrugged. Still nothing. A few weeks went by and one day she began explaining how this was unlike me I'd always written so much and it was unhealthy to keep everything inside, she said she was worried. then looked at me waiting for an explanation I looked at her on the edge of her seat, the cusp of the climax, staring serious at my face and then I started laughing the two of us on a park bench. Eventually, the laughing stopped and I looked at her again then laughed all over again, while taking her face in my hands and kissing her right cheek it was then that I realized very few people understand the joy of having nothing to say.
on the way to breakfast I ask my friend why he never turns on the radio when I'm in his car and he responds, Because that's important. and in the sun bright with morning we rarely see neither of us says another word until the waitress asksEddie Kilowatt Website
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