War's long done. We're all just folk now.

I've stolen something from someone, and I wish I could give it back. The thing I took was not mine to take, and its not one of those things easily returned. I took a man's pride.

Little did I know that through the ceaseless bickering, bantering, mocking, poking, proding (and the occasional graphing of extreme close-up high-resolution snapper onto his visage) that I was actually emasculating a friend. He told me he enjoyed the attention, and I believed him. Secretly, it was killing him.

And I was the one holding the Sword of Damocles over his head.

I'm sorry, schpydurx.



Remembering Tomas