“Bury the hatchet” he said. How quickly one’s demise for forgiveness comes with no shame! Shall i not bear the uncomfortable feelings in the precessence. And how could she see that he would be fit in such a society of ours in which he appears and proudly strides through the door way entrance into the guest filled room. I shall not make a stare as he circles around greeting with the knowledge that he is unwanted by a single particular young woman.
As she reached around with love an affection for all those around her but would not shed but unbearable half shake of a hand to bring attention when called over. Why sequester with words which only bring a voice of gentleness when only a frail and syndical grin is placed upon his face. How do you respond with the company of many surrounding to bring little if no attention your way.
“Can we just Burry the hatchet?” he would say and heard with such disgust as those words touched the air between him and I. There is no resolve to be made not forgiveness to be had, just a simple yes with no meaning than the word its self to avoid any more words to be spoken. One can only demise that such a crude soul only have thought to be present for his own pleasures. A type of sickness of his ways with his own and any other young .
An adolescent, now grown woman in the passing of time shivers of what would appear to be an unnatural encountering, All instincts of attention before and after to her child was not without a watchful eye.
His dismissal was not missed nor faired. A hatchet not buried for the purposes of gratification but retribution.