Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Dead Rite chapter 155.03


“Don't you? I could map out the trail of connections if you like. You didn't kiss her when you walked her home and that led to a downward spiral in her self esteem, leading to weight gain, depression and anxiety disorders until she was so dysfunctional she was admitted to St. Pity's for the last three years of her life, only leaving it for the funeral of her mother after which she topped herself. What would it have cost you to give her a peck on the cheek, eh?”

“She'd been sick on Campari and Thai green curry. It was all over her. I took her home, didn't I?”

“But a kiss would have saved her from the future.”

“No.” Harold stopped, holding his hands up. “I will not take responsibility for her choices. It was not my fault she committed suicide.”

“If you say so, old son.” Jasfoup patted him on the back. “You carry the guilt like it was nothing. I'm proud of you.”

“What guilt? I never even made the connection until you brought it up.”

“And now you have, you'll realise how heavy the guilt feels.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Confession is good for the soul, they say.”

“Confess to who? You?”

“If you like.” Jasfoup resumed walking. “I can always do with a good laugh.”

“But what would be the point? It's not like you can give me absolution.”

“No, but I can give you the comfort of a burden shared.”

“It wasn't even a burden until you brought it up.”

“There you go, then. I feel better already.”

“You're impossible.”

“No, just very, very improbable. I'm a figment of your antiquated belief system.”

“Does that mean you're not real? Dill suggested I might be in need of a psychologist.”

“I'm as real as you believe I am, but if you want a psychiatrist we have all the best ones in Hell. I could introduce you to Freud, if you like. You could tell him about your penis envy.”

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