Monday, Apr. 02, 2018
6:33 p.m.
<< [ Pre-emptive Strike ] >>
He called my name from across the grass, then said he was expecting me to come in. "I'm sorry," I lied, "it's been so long I wasn't sure which house was yours anymore."
Things were the way they always were when they were good. I told my brother when I got home that it's only a matter of time before he disappoints me and I need to stop talking to him for another six or twelve months, depending.
"Just stop talking to him for another year now," my brother said, "that's what I do."
"Pre-emptive spite?" I asked. Yes.
I listened to You Worry Me on repeat on the way home.