"do you have a question?"

"no."

"i know you do. i can see it—like a little flame inside of you."

"i don't want to ask anything."

"are you sure?"

"certain."

"alright."

(a moment.)

"where does everyone go?"

"there it is. 

what do you mean?"

"i mean—

all these...boys, men, I don't know—

all of these almosts. 

where do they disappear?"

"maybe you do."

"what?"

"disappear. maybe you disappear."

"how the fuck do i disappear?

  i'm the one watching them leave."

"think about it like this. you're holding candy. 

a chocolate, one without a name—

it's a surprise—

and it's in your hand and you're excited to eat it. you love chocolate, always have.

now, you see more chocolate. a mountain of it. some of them have your name—others don't, others have other names, like a scrawled-on tag so you don't steal their chocolate. you get excited, because you love chocolate, and you find more.

you're digging, and you're digging,

and you're eating, and you're eating.

where did your other chocolate go?"

"this isn't about chocolate—"

"you're right. it isn't.

but where did it go?"

"i don't know—

i must've dropped it, while eating the others."

"exactly."

"exactly?"

"you're a boy who turns into air, then wonders why nobody can touch you anymore."

"i think that's enough."

"it is. have a good day."