He reckoned it would be about twenty years now
If truth be told, it was a place he never ever wanted to go back to
The face of the man opposite was ageless
The coldness still ingrained
He explained the circumstances
He was being blackmailed
He gave as much information as possible
It’s been a long while
Yes, a long time
He never heard from the blackmailers again
One part of him thought they might have spoken to them
But in reality he knew he was deluding himself
In his mind they were screaming, praying for death
But death would only be rewarded when all information was extracted
He was now indebted
The touch of the gun was strange, almost alien
Yet it seemed to fit like some old raincoat
He managed to stay away for twenty years
For some, that was unthinkable
Those were the good years
He would always remember them.
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Author:
Paul Bell (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 19th, 2026 06:49
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 12
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Comments5
Nicely written, Paul. Your revolves around a man reflecting on a dark period of his life, dealing with the repercussions of being blackmailed, and the psychological scars that linger long after the events have passed.
Yes, one never really leaves.
This poem creates interest and intrigue by what is not said. It is a story well built. Nicely done
The inuendo keeps it going.
Quiet and heavy—this feels like memory under pressure, where time hasn’t healed so much as it’s just kept things contained.
The grit is in that return of the past: not dramatic, but inevitable, like something waiting patiently in the dark.
The return of the reluctant spy.
Paul, this feels like that pull of something you thought you’d escaped…only to realize it never fully let go. That return, even after years, feels real in a way that’s hard to shake. It lands quietly, but it lands. Strong piece, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
You never really escape life, though life might escape you.
Plenty of questions strategically placed.
It's a cold wind passing.
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