Logophobia

I know it's too late for me to hide it.

I wanted to hide the box, to drop it in the deepest part of the ocean.

But I couldn't.

So instead I called in my lawyer, had him write up my will.

I'll leave it to my son . . .

Maybe he'll be able to finish what I started.

But I can only hope against hope that he'll never open it.

Hope . . . what a frail thing for me to cling to in my last moments.

Hope . . .