The Little Man.............

For the last 2 1/2 weeks, I've been feeling guilty. I was stressing over some test results, and used the Flasher to take it out on some people who annoyed me. I had reacted quickly, without really thinking about the consequences. Luckily there were none. No one saw me, and no one - so far - has called me on it.

Now, I'm coming up on my 3rd Anniversary as a transplant recipient. I'm reliving all those "good to be alive" feelings. This is leading to a lot of regret at having played along with Doyle and DHS. At first, of course, I felt like I had no choice, but later.......?

What's that quote.."Power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely"..?

When there was a quota - deadlines - it was different. When Doyle, or Givings, or Craig was in the picture, I guess I justified what I did as being part of The Project. Now that it's only me, I have to admit that I let it go to my head.

I had power.

I had power, and I used it.

I had power, and I used it,.. wrongly.

I know that things have changed at the DHS. I've been led to believe that someone - hopefully, Doyle - would eventually contact me about The Project. I'll have to control the urges until they do.

Not stop..control. After all, they didn't take the Flasher back. They must want me to continue using it. Just not so much for my own gratification.

Today was to be the first day of my new resolve. I got up around 8, and ran through my morning routine and checked my emails. I went out.

I put my wash in a machine, picked up the paper and some lottery tickets, and did some food shopping. I picked up my wash, had breakfast at Mickey D's, and picked up a sandwich at Subways.
I went home. Put away the wash and the groceries, turned on the TV, made some tea, and sat down to read the paper. I didn't get too far.

Scrawled in what looked like crayon was the message.."Denny, Mine! A. G. (Del)".. next to a circled  sidebar article about a couple being found dead during the power outage.

What?...... How?............Who?............

It was addressed to me.

I don't buy my paper at the same place every day, and I don't always take the top copy, so it couldn't be a set up. The paper had been in my car when I was picking up my wash, eating, and buying the sandwich. Could someone have gotten at it then? Why?

It was addressed to me. And it looked like "Del" inside the parenthesis.

The article was about a couple who died, supposedly by carbon dioxide poisoning. But what if it was Del, the DHS subject from Delaware?

And why would he be doing this..sending me this message?

Who, or what, did the letters "A. G." stand for?

Too many questions, and no answers at all. Some lines from a poem I remember hearing when I was a kid came to me..

          He was not there again today
          Oh how I wish he'd go away.

If this was Del, I really did.