Shadows jump from long cast light causing wary eyes to dart in fear at the encroaching fury, the rage maelstrom that I have created.
No one to blame, no one else at fault, my undoing is my own thread, my Theseus is coming for me, and this labyrinth will not constrain.
“How could you? HOW COULD YOU?“ guttural rumblings emanate from darkened corners like cries from a growling ogre, they rumble up my legs, rattling my spine.
“Sorry! Sorry!” I shout back, legs flapping as I stumble away, “Sorry! Sorry!“ Ineffectual protestations bleat repeatedly; the tornado of hatred strides unfettered.
I cower and await the doom that so rightfully befits me, my harbinger looms, menace overflows their cup and our eyes lock.
I am incorrect, there is no fury, no anger, no hatred. Only sadness, disappointment, pain and hurt, and I feel worse. I wish it had been the malice.
“Why did you forget me?” Trevor asks, a tear forms and my trembling visage appears within it, small and pathetic. “Was I not good enough?“
I stand up, resting apologetic hand on broken shoulder and accept my folly:
“Trevor, you are so much better than I, There are not enough sorries in this world for me to send you.
Fix this I shall, I will regale the tales of Trevor Stains of the Knightsbridge Plains!
Please give me another chance.“
He does not have to, he is not bound by me, but he is a man who has overcome villainy and his heroic nature shines on me, in this moment and I am bathed, as he nods.