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Even using a spur of rock as a pulley for the rope, hauling Noah from the river ignites my every pain. My ribs, my back, the bruises and scrapes on my knees and ankles, everything feels revolted by hauling him up.
I’m regretting helping this asshole.
But I don’t want him dead.
I want him humiliated.
I want the world to see him for what he is.
I want his face below headlines that read WORST PERSON EVER.
I want his name scorned in the boardrooms. Investors fleeing his companies. A financial bankruptcy to match his moral one.
I want the Salvation Army shelters to hang up pictures of his face by the door, captioned NOPE.
I want him to lose everything. Everything.
I want hard-core KKK Klansmen to spit on his starving, wretched husk as he weeps for all he’s lost.
And I want to laug
