Inevitable should be the word, but perhaps not. “A likely outcome” might seem more appropriate. I should apologize to several people. I don’t know where to begin. Given the situation, the commuters should be top of mind, but then we have the train operator who had no choice in it. He saw it and might be damaged. Sorry about that. You’ll probably get over it. Therapy and time.
The family, none of them like me, so they are probably unaffected. They all pretty much hate me. C’est aujourd’hui le premier jour. I go about things the wrong way, always have.
If I knew where to start, I probably wouldn’t be at the end. It is a curious story spanning decades. Amy. Then I met Keryn, and she was Amy a few decades too late. I’m married, but my wife hates me as much as Amy did. Keryn hates me as well, perhaps more, even though I never slept with her. Because of that, I thought she’d be my third wife, but I’d never get married again. I’d have liked to do the Sunday crossword in bed with her and tea and toast; she hated crosswords.
She was lovely, all three. Yes, that is intentional. I’m a romantic deep down. I have trouble distinguishing them as separate. They are love incarnate. And apparently hate.
It was no secret. I have none. I told everyone. No one cared. No one stopped to listen. No one caressed me and said it would be okay, because they all knew it wouldn’t be. No one is at fault. No one is no one. And all one.
I am one. Was. Not now. Where is Saturday? When was Sunday tea? They all left. The wind blew and leaves fell. Autumn. Winter comes next. There was no fall from grace. Grace wasn’t there. I never met her. It was those three. And there were no mirrors for them to see themselves in. They faded at the close of day.
Who will be there tomorrow? I do not know.
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The train operator saw me on the rails. The train was quick. Ruthless. They all faded. All three were late for work. Sorry about that.