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Monday, January 14, 2019

Microstory 1016: Finley

Good mornin’. Yes, my people do say good mornin’ sometimes. It isn’t always top o’ the mornin’ to ya. Hi, my name is Finley, and I’m Irish. Well, that made me sound like an alcoholic. Is there a difference? According to our neighbor, there ain’t. Me dad wanted to move us back to a small town, like the one where we lived in Ireland, but we couldn’t afford to go back overseas, so here we are. Coming from the big city was a bigger culture shock than the original move to the states. People here a lot more racist, and they don’t even know it. They think they’re being funny and endearing, but that can be just as offensive. Viola wasn’t like that. We immediately became friends. Believe it or not, we liked to play darts and pool together. We weren’t technically supposed to be allowed in the pool hall, but the bartender made an exception, as long as we didn’t try to drink, which we didn’t. Councilman Koch is there all the time, and she was cool with it too. We would spend an hour or two there most weekdays, and sometimes on Sunday, just talking about meaningless stuff. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much time with her before she was taken from us. I think that’s why that Ralph feller told you to speak with me early. Either he didn’t know how close we were, or he figures that three weeks is still just three weeks. I couldn’t tell you what happened that day, or what was going on with her friends. I can tell you that the whole group makes me feel really uncomfortable. I have a sense about these things, ya see. My mother was very sensitive to auras. I’m not super superstitious, but I believe there are laws of physics out there that we don’t even know enough about to study. I was really only cool with Viola. She was so much different than them, I don’t understand why they all hung out together. I’m sure they’re lyin’ about something, I just don’t know what. She was worried. She didn’t say anything, but I could hear the anxiety in her voice. The week of her death, she was really short and distant. I thought maybe I had done something to bother her. I scoured my social media pages, looking for a post I made that didn’t paint me in the best light. I didn’t find anything, but now I know it was a waste of time. It wasn’t me, it was them. I’m sure you’ve heard whispers, they are into some weird shite. Those are really the only ones you need to talk to.

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