Got my kids’ education to think about.”įor a moment I simply stare at him. Sold out, took a job in private security. “Actually,” he says, “this time I think I might be able to change your mind.” “Why are you here? You should know by now I’m not going to tell you anything.” But how does it well? It does well to those that do ill,” I reply, determined to deserve his annoyance. He shakes his head, simultaneously amused and annoyed. “You can take the boy out of the theatre, or something like that.” “No.” He sighs, checks his watch-the same one he’s worn since we met-as if I’m boring him. “That doesn’t mean you think I’m innocent.” “You know I don’t think you belong in here.” “I’d thank you if I thought you meant it.” He sits across from me, folds his hands, and says, “Oliver.” It’s a surprise, every few weeks, to see how much he’s aged-and he’s aged a little more, every few weeks, for ten years. The guard stands by the door, watching me, like he’s waiting for something to happen.Įnter Joseph Colborne. I sit with my wrists cuffed to the table and I think, But that I am forbid / To tell the secrets of my prison-house, / I could a tale unfold whose lightest word / Would harrow up thy soul.
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