And there’s a safe world (what you feel is a safe world) and a world where you are living, but you know it’s evil.  About the time Popovitch was paying a visit to an old voodoo woman in the French Quarter, seeking answers to his questions on revenge, Bethany was paying one of her visits to David.  A safe world, at least it felt that way to both of them in those few brief hours they spent together in their nakedness, but also evil, for they were living and they knew it—they knew it was a sin.  And it’s funny how sin makes you know you’re living, even if what they say about it is true—that the wages of sin is death.  Maybe it’s because when you know what you’re doing leads to death it also lets you know you’re alive.  All the little vices.  The bad habits that go into your day—your defiance.  Your way of saying to the world you know it’s wrong, but it feels good now, and even if it hurts me later I know I’m living now because I’m not afraid.  I won’t fear what doesn’t keep me safe.  Because safe doesn’t necessarily mean I won’t be sorry, and in fact I might be more sorry letting my life go by without taking a chance, without taking a risk now and then, so that when it’s all over I can look back and say, “I did that.  That was me.  I was wild once.  And I’m not ashamed.  I’m not ashamed I was willing to live like that and face the consequences…”  Both Bethany and David tasted this.  These words might have been on their lips at each of their partings.  And they were torn.  Torn between two worlds.  A safe world, free from the emotions that left them both wild with sorrow when David had to close his door and she returned to her husband.  A world unencumbered with the known risk that surely someone was going to get hurt.  And that world which is like the high of a drug.  What you have to do to get that drug.  Who you have to associate with in order to get it.  Almost like an underworld to a nice, quiet suburb where everyone’s insured, the house is paid for, and the worst thing you have to worry about with your neighbor is picking up their mail while they’re away on vacation.  They were both torn.  Torn between being bored or taking that ride again.  A ride staccato that had heaven as its road signs, but by its descent you knew it was taking you somewhere else…

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