I look round my words as I speak them, trying to see, trying to find something to let me know. Silence and suggestion prick my ears, past-earned wisdom ties my hands; that old fear of being trapped. Lies hide in truth, truth plays games with its followers -- we only end up blamed ourselves.
I find what I was looking for. Not what I hoped, but what I feared. An empty cup held out, a smile without eyes. Moments with no following. A hand to hold but not to take.
Thank you, I say. Thank you.
I can leave now.
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