More Good than Bad
They never flat-out say it. They circle around the topic, like a dog around a fire hydrant, until they slip it in. Their method is never as clever as they think it is.
“What was having him as a brother like?” What they mean is, was he always this way? I hate how they think of him like some sort of great anomaly. As if he was some great mystery. As if they hadn’t known him since third grade. They all seem to believe that I know all about his “deeply tortured soul”.
Truthfully, my brother was the type that would lift you up when you were down. He was the one who would stand up for you and take the blame. The thing about people is that they care more about the Bad than the Good. Why do newspaper headlines always have stories of war, drugs, and death? If only people cared as much about what the Peace Corps are doing as who has just been assassinated.
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