The 28th of June 1969 – Johannesburg, South Africa

(found in Parktown, tattered and covered in blood)

Yes but why? Why now and what now? And everything else too.

I know you’re tired, Trudy. Aren’t we all? I’m tired, so tired, and tired too. I close my eyes to the mess, plug my ears to the screams, yet the visions and the sounds just bounce all over my empty brain.

I haven’t a better place to go. Neither do you, of course, which is why we’re here, writing to each other, clinging to a shred of the shreds that are left.

So much of it on the floor. Slippery and sticky and most of all red. I never knew one man could spill so much, but there was so much of it on the floor.

I had always hoped that would happen for you, but now that it has, I certainly regret it. Who wouldn’t? The world feels like an interminable cascade, always crashing down around you with every ounce of itself and all the time and never stopping, now that you’ve had a taste of peace.

So still, we ask, but why? Why now and what are we to do, if anything? Or just sit and wait and watch the clouds of rain roll in?

Perhaps they will wash us away. God willing.


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