Letter from a Madman

Dear Emma,

They're almost here.... I could feel them closing in as though flies on festering meat left to rot in the desert. I don't know how they found me, were you involved in giving up my location? If so, I can't blame you.... there is little left now that you can depend on and now you made a choice based on instincts rather then betrayel. Every footstep falling past door brings a shiver thru my spine. Although my gun is waiting for the instinctual reaction of my hand, staring at me from my desk while waiting, I still wonder if I will be fast enough. Or even worse if they know better and instead wait steadily for me a loft while I least expect it. Passively allowing my guard to drop as I take another sip of my whiskey at the bar downstairs....trying to calm the nerves that should not be becalmed.

I have one favor to ask and one favor only, try to understand why I did what I did. It was not for selfish gain or an attempt of trickery and deciet; however was just an ends to a means. If my plan would have succeded we could have enjoyed a new life, one without the hardships we tried to face together as a daily routine. We could have burned the crops and let loose the livestock as we sipped on champagne, walking away from a wood warped den of hell enlocked in each others arms. Our only plans for the future could have been new sights and experiences entangled in passion and a new finding in each others hearts. I say new findings for they would have just added to the great discovery of our love we once sustained years ago.

There is a knock at the door and I fear I must answer it..... If this is all there is then please know I loved you.

Ok, that was just room service, it seems I'm on my wits end and forgot I ordered the salisbury steeak for dinner, however it might be poisoned. This is a chance I must take for the odd's of death by posioning I fear now is a lot less then being shot in the back as I walk to the corner deli.

How can things run so afoul when you plan so carefully? Life can sometimes feel like a straight line. I'm here and want to get there, therefore I need to do this, this and this. Follow the path of planning and the line will unfold in front of you like the edge of a plateau; you know where to go because if you stray off the path you will fall off the edge. However life is not like that, it's more of a rolling hill. Your at one point of the hill and know your destination is on the other side; however as you walk up the hill you are finding yourself confused on where the top of the hill is located, it feels more like you're rolling off to oneside and instead find yourself heading off of your path and into dangerous territory, one in which the wolves are waiting for your weary body to give into exhaustion and sink to the ground.

That is where I lay today, the wrong side of the hill. The fangs of the hunting wolves are replaced with the thin shiny blade of my unforseen enemies knives, their disease pussed dripping teeth replaced by the bullet that is sure to find the soft tissue of my brain. I wait propped behind a bush, hoping the shadows will evade my detering future, the slowly sinking sun will give me the opportunity to find solace. Yet they know where I am and toy with me by singing their deafening blood curdling howls, I can almost hear my name in their breath.

I miss the stinging sensation of the way your crisp blues eyes could look into my soul. For a while you made me the better man, one concentrated on making sure we had food on our table and passion in our souls. Your laugh would grip my heart as though a shockwave was sent thru me. I appreciated you for this, for you didn't even know you were doing anything. If only I could go back and realize the importance of simplicity as compared to the hardships of trying to achieve abundancy. We both know now that is too late.

Now I sit alone listening to the slow dripping of a leaky faucet in the small bathroom adjacent to my room. That dripping keeps me alert, for if I stop hearing it I know I've stopped paying attention to my surroundings and have left myself vulnerable. Drip, Drip, Drip. They won't catch me not listening. I'm listening so intently I can hear the sweat breaking the surface of my skin, yet all I hear are card players collecting their tips and the swish a fan as the madame waits for them to cash in. They won't trick me though, they won't be cashing in until I turn my back to their steel cold gaze.

I reveled in the feeling of glory when at first I mistakingly assumed my plan had work and we were now wealthy. How could they be such fools, I bewaringly questioned, as I snuck out of town at dusk. You would thing such dangerous men would be more aware of a plan as simplicite, yet intricate, as mine. Nope, they had too much confidence, to much self praise and doubt that anyone would be willing to initiate trickery and rob them of their most precious possession. However looking back, I think that is what they wanted, to give me false hope of ease and security, for this to them is just a game. They already have everything they need and now sit upon life with translucent boredom. They were waiting for me to attempt my struggle for absolute glory, for that is when their game truely began.

A fox is the symbol for cunning and craftiness; yet it is just a pawn in the game of hunters and hounds. At most times it is the confidence of that fox that will end him in the hunters cross hairs and the jaws of the hunters best friend. Speed and agility can only get you so far when you head thru the forest in circles, as you run they walk, as you hide they stalk. Just another Sunday away from the wife and whining kids for them; however for you the ulitimate sacrifice is capture. I've become that fox.

I would just give it back, a nice little package with a letter attached, "can't we let the game end here? You've had your fun and I've learned the importance of things of non-importance". They would laugh and jester at this and slow their search as though finding a bloody trail leading to their wounded victim. Instead I must continue the battle to find myself on the right side of this jaded hill.

So now I must say goodbye, for I feel their hearts beating on the opposite side of my door. I wish I could give you this gift for you to go on and find the glory of life you so much deserve; however they will surely take it and set it out for anyone to grab, tempting their next victim and pawn of their fruitless game. I wish you luck my dear, for my own ends here.

Sincerly yours forever........


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