Stranger’s Manifesto

Entry 7

I found her, you know.

Jo.

Hanging like a puppet from the tree.

Swinging in the wind.

Eyes bulging and pointed right at me.

Accusing me.

Like somehow I could have stopped her.

Like somehow I should have stopped her.

I hate that

Shoulda-woulda-coulda feeling.

It weighs down my chest

Like an avalanche of dictionaries.

But now, I’m in charge

And things will be different.

This time I’ll deal the cards

In my favor.