Shame filled Henry where he sat across from the two detectives. Even though what it should have been was guilt. The cops had put the black box through the revealer, only to discover that it was an apartment console. Even though he was at the station only as a witness to a crime against him, he had to answer for why he, as a travelling salesman, had such a console in his luggage. A console that should have been safe and secure at the University for Complex Beings.

“Who are these people, and why are they travelling in your suitcase? Be aware that you are entitled to an advocate, as we might be charging you with a violation of the rights of Complex Beings. A crime punishable by a lifetime imprisonment, as well as regular sessions of cruel and unusual punishment as defined by the legal mandates of 2083 in…

I don’t want to care.
I don’t want my tears.
Not yours either.
I don’t want the strength of it.

For I see where it leads,
That slow bloom of anger.
Of hate misunderstood.

Your empathy comes with fists.
To go with your black heart.
Crafted by one sided views.
Like most fashions that touch us.

While I mourn that you see it so,
I mourn because I see it too.
My world is changing.
With you, shaping it.

I can do nothing.
So I shed no tear.
Not for you. Not for him.
For helplessness maybe.
Not for me.