[ No, he doesn't think. He knows. Of all the things in his life, this is the one he knows best. There were precious few points of absolute consistency in his life, and the day Dutch van der Linde found him is one of them. But, John hopes, if he keeps speaking these lapses of memory into existence, then the day may come where he no longer needs to.
So he doesn't particularly want to revisit it. Every time he's been taken back to this point in his personal history has been against his own will, through dreams, or the image of hangings done, or from the full-body startle a rough hand yanking him around can sometimes inspire. Or more recently, wet-rat gunslingers trying to remind him of where he'd come from when he finds his mouth outpacing his good senses of discretion, and he dares to question the heading they all walk beneath. He saved us had started to turn into He saved you, as though daring to expect better of the man who had changed the miserable trajectory of his life were some unspeakable sin.
Unfortunately, John has already tied himself to a horse called Better. It's determined to drag him galloping down this unkempt road until it beats him bloody.
John pulls his hands out of his hair and down his face, drives the grime into his skin, and exhales harshly as he stares it down. ]
They was hangin' me. Homesteaders up in Illinois, or somewhere.
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[ No, he doesn't think. He knows. Of all the things in his life, this is the one he knows best. There were precious few points of absolute consistency in his life, and the day Dutch van der Linde found him is one of them. But, John hopes, if he keeps speaking these lapses of memory into existence, then the day may come where he no longer needs to.
So he doesn't particularly want to revisit it. Every time he's been taken back to this point in his personal history has been against his own will, through dreams, or the image of hangings done, or from the full-body startle a rough hand yanking him around can sometimes inspire. Or more recently, wet-rat gunslingers trying to remind him of where he'd come from when he finds his mouth outpacing his good senses of discretion, and he dares to question the heading they all walk beneath. He saved us had started to turn into He saved you, as though daring to expect better of the man who had changed the miserable trajectory of his life were some unspeakable sin.
Unfortunately, John has already tied himself to a horse called Better. It's determined to drag him galloping down this unkempt road until it beats him bloody.
John pulls his hands out of his hair and down his face, drives the grime into his skin, and exhales harshly as he stares it down. ]
They was hangin' me. Homesteaders up in Illinois, or somewhere.