In the evening shade,
Footstep on the dusty road.
There, a clever boy.
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Maybe at the end of the road I'll see the clean, tidy narrative. Maybe when I get to the end of it, I'll know whether I was the protagonist or the antagonist, the good guy or the bad guy, a comically and tragically flawed villian or a redeemable heroine. Maybe I'll see that I was a silly twit of a woman or an unsung siren, someone wildly shooting from the hip or a true gunslinger. A princess or a witch. The Preacher or the Marshall.
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