Up late editing
Funny how it sneaks up on you. I spent most of today dealing with death at a remove, typing up articles, checking facts, and editing other reports. Then a friend reminded me that Jim died five years ago to the day.
What is it like to kill someone? I’m not talking about murder. Unintentional homicide, rather. Trying to do the right thing, make the correct decisions, and kill your best friend? Or your brother—the topic of an other article that I hacked up today. How do you go on, the day after, the week after, years after, knowing that it was your fault, that you screwed up, that you killed someone?
Talk about heavy.
I could not pull the trigger as a kid. Shooting prairie dogs, I was excited when I scared them back into their burrows. Only later did I realize how bad my aim was. Subconscious? Maybe. I may talk about the noble hunter, but I prefer my meat butchered and nicely packaged. It’s just easier that way. Cleaner, clinical, the remove making it easier to throw on the grill.