From One Tyrant To Another. That Is

It Is Amazing How Pretending To Be In A Different Faction Changes Everything -- Even The Way I Walk. That Must Be Why It's So Strange That I Could Easily Belong In Three Of Them.

Four Sits Down On The Edge Of The Carousel, Leaning Against A Plastic Horse's Foot. His Eyes Lift To The Sky, Where There Are No Stars, Only A Round Moon Peking Through A Thin Layer Of Clouds. The Muscles In His Arms Are Relaxed; His Hand Rests On The Back Of His Neck. He Looks Almost Comfortable, Holding That Gun To His Shoulder. I Close My Eyes Briefly. Why Does He Distract Me So Easily? I Need To Focus.

I Get Up, Because I’m Supposed To, But If It Were Up To Me, I’d Stay In My Seat For The Rest Of Time.

She Must Love Me, To Worry About Me. She Must Still Be Capable Of Love.

The Cruelty Of Fate Is That I Must Travel With The People I Hate When The People I Love Are Dead Behind Me.