He couldn’t shake the feeling that something wicked was heading his way.  The feeling began late last night as he was lying in bed and carried on into the morning. It tinged his outlook with fear, and he felt like he must prepare himself for something awful.  It could be so so many things that it was futile to surmise what it might be.  But it was there.  Standing behind him, waiting.    

The feeling began with the sight of a certain chin shape.  It was very square.  He lied in bed thinking of him and wondered what he was doing in that moment.  He longed for him.  His heart, as well all know, had been broken, and though he tried to repair it these last months through a slew of questionable choices and decisions, it was obviously still in pieces.  None of his attempts had succeeded in a full repair, they merely quelled the sick feeling for a short time and allowed him to breathe freely for a moment.

He tried to let him go and sent him his love through the air.  He asked that he be taken care of.  But with the scream of the alarm clock he was awakened and again tossed into his world of uncertainty, with his wicked friend behind him waiting to pounce.

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