You can't revise words that come flying out of your mouth.īut, damn it, I was ANGRY, so angry at this man for not understanding, for being selfish and callous, for presuming that his wants and needs were more important than those of a young boy outside the mean. I'm a far better writer than spontaneous speaker. Just the thought of starting something fills me with dread. I am aghast and terrified every single day by American's stupendous (and seemingly irrevocable) slide into hell. I've written letters and gone to rallies. "Why is this retard here, ruining it for everyone?" "I came here to relax," he said to his wife (and everyone else). Most people went on with their conversations some left the pool without making a fuss (there are five large hot springs, so it's easy enough to simply move elsewhere). But he was clearly having fun! His brother sat by him and splashed him from the side sometimes he held him in a tight grip while the boy kicked his feet in the water. He screeched and screamed and moaned and barked. He was 7 or 8, hanging with a young man no older than 20 who I assume was his older brother or maybe an uncle (they looked alike). But there was one child I couldn't tune out. I am very good at tuning out the world when I read. I had my Kindle with me in its awesome waterproof cover and was rereading parts of Shelter the Sea. It was busy, on account of it being spring break, and there were kids everywhere laughing, running, splashing.
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