“i need to confess something.. i did it.

now, can you pass the wine?”

i passed it back to him

and

lit a cigarette

“i figured” i told him

“so just tell me the reason

that you did.”

“it happened so fast…”

“this isn’t a movie.”

“sorry. i know there is

no excuse,

but my innocence was lost

at such a young age

and

I hold that dear.”

“so you took

someone else’s?”

“I think it’s to try

to reclaim my own,

or something.

anymore wine?”

“yeah. did it work?”

“no.”

“because you got caught?”

“no, before then.

it didn’t feel any different

at all.”

“think you will do it again?”

“no,” he said, “i might

still watch it, though.”

we stared at each other

“do you think i deserve

my freedom - my life -

taken away?”

“it was a child, gary,

you are sick.” i said

“so what about rehabilitation?

a psych ward? anything else?”

“not in this country.

when is your court date?”

“won’t be one.” he said

“I will die in prison anyway,

so i might as well do it myself.”

“yeah.”

“the worst part is

that i let the cycle keep going.

my uncle did it to me,

i did it to that kid.

who will the kid do it to?”

we sat silent

until he left

and

the leaves changed color

then dropped

leaving the trees bare