Toby

After they were gone I laid there for a while crying into my arms. Which I’m old for, I know, but I felt so sorry for myself, this big sweaty thing laying there in the weeds like that. I raised my head and looked up at the sky: “Why me, Lord? Why me?” Then I dumped my face in my arms again and cried some more for the lonely fatboy.

But after a while I stopped.

I got up and brushed myself off.

I started walking after them.

I wanted that head.