The creepy kind.
There are occurrences which one shall never understand. The mystery of thought and what can drive an individual are wonders to behold. That is why he shall remain behind wire.
‘Each to their own,’ he says, still staring with a dead pan expression upon the table separating us.
‘But why?’ I question. ‘Was it their deaths?’
In an instant, he looks up, a smile across his face.
‘Funny, isn’t it?’ he mumbles, ‘What can happen when there is no longer an obstacle’.
‘I’m sorry?’ I ask.
‘Let’s just say, when my family passed, I no longer had to hide myself’.
. . .Thank you. . .