Time runs you down. Jostles you about. Hands you good and bad. Then kills you in the end. And all along the way, it don’t give a damn how you spend it. All it cares is that it gets spent. Can’t save it, and you can’t invest in it to get more of it. The only thing you can do to make it worth a damn is to get the most out of it. And I’ll tell you true as the sky is blue, I didn’t get a goddamn thing out of nary a single minute I spent on this planet.
When you’re close to death, and you find yourself at this funeral and that near twice a month saying your goodbyes and fuck offs to this gal and that fella, you put thought to the woes and wayward ways that went into the time you was give trust to when you popped out your momma’s biblical parts. Which I know ain’t nothing but another way to waste time, but that’s what I was born to do, waste a shit-ton of time.
Listening to the preacher burning words from tired old scripture at Felix’s graveside, I come to realize folks don’t even know how to put in time at a funeral. They pretend the life now snatched up by death was nothing but sunshine and lollipops. That wasn’t Felix entire. He done good, yes, but he done bad, too. Lots of it. And he wasn’t just the two, he was all that the world doles out. Sad, angry, selfish, caring, stupid, generous, right, and wrong. He was everything, and that’s why I loved him. That’s why I was at his funeral. He was the brother I chose and the second-best thing I ever spent my time on. The first being a matter I ain’t ready to discuss just yet, but we’ll get there. Soon enough.
The most remarkable thing Felix ever done was survive the time he spent with me. We rambled our way through a war together, and then right after, we fell into a life of criminal pursuits with the Bunning Brothers. We done a lot a wrong with those two, but I’d be lying if I didn’t confess I ain’t never had so much fun. We used our soldiering skills in good tainted fashion and ain’t nothing felt more right in my life.
Horrible Harvest 
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