136.1

[shewitt]

The silence is deafening. Two men made of iron will, muddied with pride. I miss the days when we'd make love like mad until the time called for me to leave. Yet lately, we part riddled in bitterness, lethal venom

Comments

[john_c_mitchell]

Hell? Welcome.

[shewitt]

You thrive off of it, don't you?

[john_c_mitchell]

Of course, I do. Don't you?

[shewitt]

Not now, no. At times, yes. But in this place and time I find myself rather unsettled, unraveled.