lyoz's Journal: the supporting roles

There he were... running around the field. He were doing well and certainly had improved a lot since last Monday. Two pole-hits, subtle movement. But there is others, and others was good too. Others is always better... despite the meanings of his name.

Maybe she were the reason. Maybe the early morning trip, excessive work, shitty pay, complicated lies.

Everyone else were playing better.
Everyone else who really matter.

There he were... sitting in a room with giants and very tall humans. They chat, they laugh, and matter with ease-- while he listens with intent hanging eyes. Misplaced and briefly invisible, he smiles when they look at the chair he were sitting in.

Do all these people-- all these giants, these others and tall humans-- do they know they have a supporting role in this grand gala of unwanted drama. Gods and Godesses are already chosen; Kings and Queens already crowned, the heroics already performed, and all the martyrs have already died.