The worst

It’s happened, X tells me, the worst has finally happened, the most embarrassing thing possible. He can’t tell me what it is, he says, it’s still too close. All he can say is that it’s the worst, the very worst thing that could’ve happened. He knew it was bound to happen, he says, that or something exactly like it, but the worst is by its nature impossible to prepare for, it leaves no room for anything else. He can talk around it, try to distract himself by talking to me, but it overwhelms him as he speaks, he says, it’s waiting for him to stop talking, it’s here in his very words, the very worst, waiting for him to run out of words.

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