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The Singer

By Jessica Law

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 Jessica Law

The singer was young, his heart was full of fire,
He sung as he’d never sung and only could inspire.

– Traditional

The Singer

I’m writing you my story now because there’s no other way for me to tell it. You can make what you like of it, I’m not trying to teach you anything, really—it’s up to you to make your own decisions. I just thought I owed you an explanation, that’s all—for you to finally understand what’s been going on in my head all this time (as much as I can understand it myself). And who knows, maybe you’ll be entertained by it along the way. You can think of it as a cautionary tale, if you want; or you can simply imagine yourself as an outside observer of some interesting scientific process that you can use somehow to further the advancement of knowledge—after all, all experience counts for something.

But you weren’t just an outside observer, were you? You were right in the middle of it, the cause and the cure for it, and I hope more than anything that I haven’t done anything to harm you. Because I love you, more than anything else in the world, and I always will—and I hope nobody else will disappoint you like I did. I always loved you, all along, despite what I did—I hope you realise that. So these words are for you, every one of them, for you to do with as you will.


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