On nights like this I would go out on the beach and sit
for hours listening to the ocean. I miss that." "I know you do." I said. It was so cruel to
continue keeping him here, lacked in his private cage,
as Heyden had said. "But it's not the same there." I
added.
"Right, right. Who was it said you can't go
home again?"
"Thomas Wolfe." Heyden replied quickly, Uncle Linden looked at him.
"I remember you." he said. "You were here
before.. Heyden, isn't it?"
"Yes," Heyden replied smiling.
"And you write songs. Written anything new
lately?"
"No, not lately, but I've got some new ideas."
Heyden told him.
"So much for him not having his wits," I
muttered. Uncle Linden smiled,
"Good. As long as you're creative, you're still
alive." he advised. He looked at me again, his brow
creasing. "So things are not good at home. How could
they be with such a tragedy?"
"No, Uncle Linden. Things are not good at
either of our homes," I added, nodding at Heyden. "Oh? Sorry about that, but sometimes there's
not much you can do about it. No." he muttered more
to himself than to us. "not much."
"You can leave," Heyden growled and flopped
in the other chair.
Uncle Linden looked up. "What's that? Leave?"
He shook his head. "I used to think about doing that.
but I never had the self-confidence, and I couldn't