Threads: Prisoner Exchange

"Hey, Jensen, how's the cover-up going?" 

"A Worldly Process for a Worldly Solution for a Worldly Problem." 

Part of the facade was the extreme neatness of his very old, very small, paid-for East Dallas abode.

On the wall, his 2-3-4 'Fukyu' poem: 

Was born
Grew up sick 
Didn't make it

And his drawing, 'Prisoner on 12th Street': a man drooped on a sidewalk.

No one knows how Jensen ruined his life - hence the cover-up.

Then I paid for my pot and left.

Outside, a cloudy moon ached to be seen.

 CODA: While I was there 

@natashabertrand appeared on Jensen's muted TV. 

 

"She's ten times the person I'll ever be," he lamented. "Her foot could save my life." He lives in a world of longing for what can never be.