“Well,
I'll leave you to your 'picking up cans,'” I jeered and motioned
towards his pathetic, sad, human prisoners and their negative
thoughts. I didn't want to watch him eat worms out of people's brains
anymore. I didn't care that he was committed to his good deeds in the
same way inmates were committed to thinking about their crimes. It
felt forced. I doubted it would get him anywhere.
“Be seeing you, brother,” said Raum as he turned his back on me. I knew from his tone that this wasn't a good or welcomed meeting. He didn't want to see me again. I left as he resumed digging into the next inmate's brain, pecking out a worm of bad feeling. It was the fear of dying alone.
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