All the blood lying on the floor and i sense the crowd expecting something more.
Narrative drawing to a close…
Still remain the things you couldn’t kill, I can see it still.
Blinding light illuminates the scene
Try to fill the spaces in between
Bob: Umm. One time when I was a little boy, I was playing with my slingshot and I saw this Jaybird. I don’t know why but I shot him. I didn’t mean to. I don’t even know why I shot at him, but I felt so bad, I started praying to God that he would come back. And all of a sudden the Jaybird woke up. He just flew away.
Katie: God saved him?
Bob: Yeah…. I think so.
Sometimes when he was in the city he would sleep in a bay and wake in the night and go out and look at the stars and there were so many, and he knew they were there before him, and they would be there after him. That was sort of awful and sort of wonderful.
Sometimes when he was running, the wind would blow around him and flap his pants and he would grieve for something that was lost, like that French or Room 7. Sometimes he would look at the sky in the spring and see a bird, and it might make him happy, but just as often it felt like something inside him was getting small and ready to break.
It’s bad to feel like that, he would think, and if I do, I shouldn’t be watching no birds. But sometimes he would look up at the sky anyway.
Richard Bachman