The Last Good Kiss

Youth endures all things, kings and poetry and love. Everything but time.

Nobody lives forever, nobody stays young long enough. My past seemed like so much excess baggage, my future a series of long goodbyes, my present an empty flask, the last good drink already bitter on my tongue.

I didn't know what was going on, didn't understand a bit of it, didn't like any of it. Maybe that's why the first thing I packed was my guns. If your brain won't work, wave a gun around. Sometimes that helps.

...the sun rose each morning to stare into my face with the blank but touching gaze of a lovely retarded child.