I remember that when I took a walk with her that evening the vow of twilight lit up the fields outside the town. Luxuriant reeds beside the lane hummed with the low voiced poetry of summer. As we passed through a silent cemetery, hand in hand, she quietly told me her ultimate hope, that I would never be bad to her.... I did not realize that with this statement she was entrusting her life to me. I thought she was letting me know that, other than her hand, I wasn't to touch any other part of her body.
... Who was it... When... And where, that taught me to be so degenerate?
Later I wondered why we always had to meet in a cemetery. Yes, Springfield was belligerent, but why not choose some other place? In summer the cemetery's wildflowers were unusually thick, but they were flourishing on top of decomposing bodies.
An evening glow, a local cemetery, broken tombstones... Branded undesirable, I should have realized that we were doomed from the start to play out this kind of tragic scene. "Never begin to believe you can change your fate!" this message has played counterpoint to my entire life.
