Things Which Are Not Mine To Carry, aka My Date With Satan
I felt the trepidation within minutes of finalising plans. It comes with the territory when you agree to meet Satan at a pool-hall after work, or anywhere. Satan and I have a long and varied history. The first and last thing you need to know is that he groks me, for better or worse. I do my best to reciprocate, but I've always told him there were things I didn't wanna know. We haven't had face-time since 2002. Some of the water under the bridge is toxic. If I were to learn next month that I'm dying, though, would I regret a lost chance to hug Satan? Probably, yeah; so we're going in, Legion. I am sure in my skin and not afraid I'll do something I'll later regret. I challenged myself to demonstrate my new ArchetypeMe, show-not-tell. Man, we sure could have made a mess in the old days; we made excellent messes. Not tonight, Satan. Not tonight. Satan has a loyal streak that's Hell-deep. It took him nearly an hour to park his truck safely so ...