no I thought little of people not to admit I thought little of myself I didn’t think much of George thought he was weird and I didn’t like how he treated that cat Mason could have had better friends he just never felt good enough for his peers he never really was a friend to George anyway really just listened to him play once in a while didn’t even go see him when he was in the hospital after he broke his leg but that’s just what Mason told me never met George I just lived in his house for a while and that’s what’s weird about it hearing Mason tell me about him and maybe if my Mom hadn’t known Mason’s dad maybe she wouldn’t have heard about the house being for sale and that writer husband of hers wouldn’t have committed to a mortgage foreclosed on less than three years later I wouldn’t know about that cat and those bones there

bones? what bones?

the story. Haven’t you heard that story? No you fell and he fell except you fell from iron and he fell from stone but when you died I did not write I did not look for the truth she had already divorced you and now I write to you dead but I waited three days to write this to bury him

I SEE THE RED FLAG WAVING ON AN UPHILL SHOT. These words in my mind but what you see is refined distilled and where I put you I see in impressions which descriptions as to how are my eyes and what do my eyes see polarities of light against a naked lens. But you see a golf course a July afternoon sun the fairway grass dead and a walk uphill dogleg right around the pines…