my premonition has come true, it took four days to come down the line, the transmission of the truth in catholic black funeral blues. the strange feeling i was left with, as the spotlight came to rest, i found myself in it's centre between the dark and brightest light. i thought about my unpublished novel, how it sat there for years, i thought about caroline in her grave, and the irony of the heavy rain outside. flashes of the eastern suburbs, my life as an undercover man, a bag of weed and sack of lobsters. i thought about the offender program, and how he replaced us with his mobsters. that creul mouth and darting eye, i vividly recall being trapped in a room with him, telling him he was intimidating as he attempted to bribe his way into my soul.

all that access to infinite wealth and fame, never quite the holy man the press made him to be. we knew better, the four horsemen of the apocalypse, riding towards our own doom on that high ground. the skool teacher and with his guns and christ, the clinical psychologist with her heart torn asunder, caroline with that big smile. and me with my stupid vengeance. the pen is lighter than the sword but you need patience and a good editor.

i was frozen in those moments when it all sunk in, and my phone began to ring, i was frozen in my own lonely present, not sure if it's for celebrating. it was a heavy moment or was it light, fucking conflicted feelings but he was gone, and we were now free. three. vale caroline, i wish you were around for this moment.