Buster

It was so good to see him. Three years ago I shot him in the head. I should’ve done it sooner. He suffered greatly; as did I, but not like that. He came to see me the other night; in fact I think I know where to find him. The whole house was death then, and that was where I lived. I spent that month with death, in fact was death. I killed him; I killed the spiders; I killed the flies; I killed plenty, and I made it my home. Well, he came to me the other night, and I scratched his head good. I think it’s alright now. It was good to see him, and I think it was good to see me.