he tried to wipe the sleep out of his eyes but it stuck

                                                       and it was stuck-tight for theHAR foreseeable futureNo fuckin rest for the wicked – nah he wasnt wicked per se – he was a caretaker  he split time with untrustworthy others who were helping an old buddy who had no one left

                                            they had exited five of six in a car accident some ten years or so ago  the survivor was murdered not long after a cold case unsolved  cops couldnt cobble a motive together

                                                                                                        perhaps forgetting that motive isnt intrinsic sometimes murder is coldblooded without rhyme or reason it presents  its opportunity an someone dies

he didnt think that

he was told by an older employer when he was a young teenager

                                                                     Bill Hems

Bill was a rabid  John Bircher rabid

                                      Yawan, ya can get away with murder, easy.  Yep.  Don’t doubt me, boy. Roll somewhere out of town. Walk up behind someone in the middle of the night an shoot ‘em in the back of the head.
Walk away.

No motive, boy.

Except you wanted to kill someone.

Ever want to kill someone?

I have.

But then I’d have motive.

If you killed them, randomly, they’re known to take walks at night, you’d never be suspected. That; and you’re a boy.

when his buddy called him for help he flewno questions asked

they needed him

he was there

he could have said No

someone else may have

he didnt have a No for him Ever

his buddy wouldnt have had a No for him Ever

                                                 Whacha need? hed move Heaven an Earth if he could

they were committed buddiesthey broke knuckles together back-to-back

                                                                             rarely but on occasion toe-to-toe  theyd irritated the other they were volatile flammable  no apologises necessary  the best-of-friends lovers husbands wives on occasion couldnt stand the other

                                      however those spatsthose insignificant moments in time over years an years were forgivable they didnt erode the deep feelings they had for each other

everyones a fuckin human being

aint a more faulty creature ever made

                                         catch em in a bad mooda foul mood intolerant theyd break an broken ya both own it

they were dyed-in-wool buddies

too bad one wasnt a broad 

either would have married the other

he was exhausted

                     he couldnt imagine exhausted and dying

eventually theyd find their way out

itd end

not for him

             then hed be responsible to tell his buddys story  happily

Yagot a moment  Ill buy ya a beer   I got a great fuckin story

1402,  Monday,  10  2. 20

1627,  Monday,  10  8. 20