…“If I asked you what you needed, would you truly tell me something that you could not live without, or would it be a wasted need that served no real purpose?” Dulack asks with a stony gaze across the table to Keith.
“Wouldn’t it be the same regardless of either? For my want, is truly my need.”
“But is your need a want?” he asks with a high-pitched whine.
Keith touches his chest with several powerful slaps. “Is my need, not my want? Is my want, not my need? Is mine, not mine but yours? No, it is mine!” he says as he puffs out his chest and tosses his head back with an obvious blasé attitude.
“Yes, yours is unseen yours,” he says as he gently places his hands face down upon the table and lets out a stuttered breath. “When I was younger, much younger than you are now, I saw a woman awkwardly making her way through the centre of Hopes Grove, struggling to carry an assortment of parcels and baggages. All the men in the street ignored her, several even pushed her, deliberately trying to k pick her down. I had seen it happen many times before, each time, she would cuss and curse near the end without fail. Swearing on a stack of books and the seaman of a virgin that they would all suffer, that vengeance would find them. Never once, no matter how many times I saw her, never once did she acknowledge me, and nor did I ever acknowledge her, until that day. The men had knocked her down and kicked her parcels down the street like they were footballs, laughing and screaming as they did. She cried and begged, but they didn’t care, for their world was beyond her feeble pleads, and that’s when one of them sliced her across the face. As the red spilled to the cobblestone footpath, he threatened to cut her again, and that’s when our eyes locked.” he takes another stuttered breath, and gently dabs the sea of sweat that pours down his brow with ferocious intent. “The next thing I know, three of them are on the ground before me bleeding out, and the other two are running down the street screaming, but their cries were quiet ended quickly as a milk truck plowed through them coming round the blind corner of Dunalley’s Pass.” he says as he puckers his lips up, then squeezes them shut, closing his eyes in the process.
Several moments turn into minutes before Keith clears his through loudly. “And what happened?”
Dulack’s eyes shoot open and he smiles broadly. “What happened with what?”
“With the fucking bag lady and the guys you killed!”.…