this morning #1506.
this morning, you could cut the tension between us with a knife. while the kids ran around the yard unaware of the shitstorm we were currently in, i could tell that there was something he wanted to tell me. he’s terrible at keeping secrets, especially from me. i could see that the stress of staying silent was tensing up the muscles in his face. he grabbed my mug. stood up. went inside the cabin to fill it. i bet he knows who tried to hurt us. i bet it’s the mexicans. they’re the ones he deals with who worry me the most. loose cannons. actually, i don’t think that arson’s their style. they’re more of the “slit your throat” types. he returned with our coffees. started right in. someone thinks he stole from them. he sort of did.