... (deranged_piglet) wrote in 100_words, @ 2009-10-21 11:56:00 |
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Along the street on the way to school/ work/ destination, you think of things you’d like to have said but didn’t. It occurs to you that other people are only mysterious because they are dishonest, you are dishonest; everybody makes omissions. You have come to realise, over the years, that as you move closer to death appearances become less important. You are more likely just to tell someone now, rather than keep it to yourself; knowing that they have probably experienced it too. And yet you walk on, not brave enough to be first: penetrate the albumen; you coward, you.