Chapter 40
“There is freedom,” I say, at last. The tangent path of my thoughts has lasted longer than I intended and my reporter friend is leaning closer, waiting to hear what whispered wisdom drops from my lips. “Freedom from desire in being unfulfilled. Freedom from wanting in intense craving. Freedom from yourself, in being so utterly possessed by another.”
There is a soft click as he turns off the capture device, recording my words for whatever newsfeed or pin-mag he works for. I have forgotten, although he must have told me.
“And now I want to ask a question just for me, not my readers or my followers, or even your followers, but just for my own curiosity.”