Normal
Thing about him is everything seems to be normal, he is just an older man, drifting along into the general decline. Some days he forgets to do things he should, other days he forgets the things he has done, but most days are just normal. Sometimes he wonders why so many people seem to be naked. And why they have animal heads.
When I am feeling low, and something has gone wrong I drift away and find myself something to do, alone. Then you come and you ask me: what's wrong? Or: have I done something to upset you? And I am not ready to argue my case so I say nothing. And I get sadder when you say: alright. And I put the thing that went wrong I to my little box of injustices that eats away at my heart.
