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The Grudge
The guitar was old and lonely in its corner by my shoes. I tuned it, and strummed once. The groan of the worn strings sang one familiar song; first a greeting;
So good to see you once again. I've missed you so much.
I was glad I could do something for this guitar; I always was, but I knew what he was going to say next. I grasped the fret-board tighter. The first sonorous note dissipated and replaced itself with a dry metallic hiss:
Hmmmm. I see you wear your grudge like a crown. You let its negativity calculate what you will and will not tolerate. You're becoming desperate to control everything near to you, but you cannot come close. What's worse, I know that even after 10 years you haven't forgotten anything.
He's right and always will be. It's been ten years since I first opened my eyes and never once have you looked back to see my progress, even to give a cursory glance as one checks inventory. I've seen things that you could not see or would not see. But I am a part of you nevertheless. I know it because every morning when I wake up and in the night when I go to bed, there is a snake behind me who hisses what the damage could have been. Evil is in me and its yours. Dry undiluted evil that ive tried to water but it's not easy. It really isn't easy but his time the pain won't matter. This guitar that you bought me is a part of me as it is a part of you and I'll remove myself from it.
This time it won't matter what happens.
This time I won't hear the guitars familiar chant. Always a soft groan. Hissing,
Be Patient.
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