At War

If this were only 1881 and I could finish this war the way Earp did.  Here is today’s heartache.  It’s a statement from a cold-hearted woman who has no care for anyone but herself and no vision beyond her own grief.  Her mother died a year or so ago.  My niece is a liar and I’ve diaries and phone conversations to back this claim. “My father is not a good man.  He is sick.  The last time I saw him he was wearing an orange jumpsuit, shaking profusely, hand-cuffed and pale.”  Her father is my brother.  My brother is indeed sick.  He has Parkinson’s Disease.  He was wearing an orange jumpsuit because he was accused of something he never did.  He was shaking because he has Parkinson’s Disease.  He was pale because he has Parkinson’s Disease.  Not a good man?!  I’ll fight to my death before I let anyone accuse him of anything horrific again.  And with all the resources at my disposal I will make sure the world knows what was REALLY done and I’m not alone in that.  When the truth comes out ALL of it will come out.  You think that would make a difference but I know it won’t.