This life I led, and the things I've done to maintain it has left little time for a social life. Or a taste for being around other people. It wasn't all because the Man dictated secrecy.
My tasks that started out easy and simple were the most fun too. I felt light after each one as if I had done some small good for someone. And I chose to ignore that my employer was a drug peddler for the most part.
I never saw what a drug trade did to people, and my previous life was very far away from that sort of thing. I lived in suburbia and yes, the mothers all had a little something to help keep them going, but, it was polite, civilized drug abuse.
Messed up, but we understood that people did what was necessary to keep life running as normal. So, I didn't understand what the Man was doing.
And now, it is too late for me to change the past and alter the future.
Do I deserve peace? I suspect not, but I yearn for it. My soul cries out for it. And in the early morning darkness that surrounds me, I ...
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I think I've stated before how I don't do well with change? Now more so than ever. For eighty plus years I have had the same ...