A problem

still-waiting-for-godot:

The first time Andrew sees Neil, he thinks: this could be a problem. He thinks: threat. He thinks: warning. He thinks. 

Output: “I’m not a math problem.” 

He thinks: This boy is a problem that doesn’t add up. Or maybe Andrew isn’t as smart as he thought he was. 

He thinks: he’ll still solve him anyway. 

Partial answers. Half truths. Truth for truth. Truth=truth. Sunrise, Abram, Death. 

He thinks: “I am not your answer and you sure as fuck aren’t mine.” There’s a missing variable somewhere that they both lack. The answer can not possibly lie here.

He thinks: 90%. 91,92,93… This problem that keeps giving and these answers that keep changing. 

And suddenly the answer doesn’t fucking matter. Not when the problem itself is missing. Suddenly, he’s gone. And Andrew isn’t sure where to look for it.

He blinks and suddenly it’s there, just as it was. Waiting to be found. Hidden in the jumble of words and numbers and Thank you, you were amazing.

He thinks: 100. 

He doesn’t like the answer he gets. 

He hates it.