infinitesorrow.

               THERE’S A QUIET MOMENT  as he inspects his friend. His best friend. Still, for their purported closeness, he hadn’t been able to stop Anakin from leaving, & he hadn’t been able to wrap his mind around Anakin’s return. There is still an awkward tension resting here, between them, even in the midst of this familiarity & this old rote & ritual. 

     He leans forward & accepts the proffered cigarette, taking a drag as he glances out into the dusk. There’s a chill that runs down his spine as the wind whispers by. It’s too quiet to be comfortable.

     “I am, too.” 

               EVEN IN THE suburbs Chicago’s a bright lifeline on the horizon. Light pollution scattered high as Willis Tower in a gauzy, luminous fog, He props a shoulder against the side of the building, his back to the older man. 

               Anakin has trouble facing Ben when it’s just the two of them. Looking the older man in the eyes makes him want to aim a right hook between them. && now, with the prosthetic, he’d do more damage than just break Ben’s nose. He is the greatest evidence of Anakin’s failings. The man his daughter calls her father. 

               A motion for the cigarette. ❝ I don’t know how to establish a relationship with someone who’s determined to keep throwing it back in my face. ❞