"Come back and put me up!"
He wished his throat could make a louder trumpet than that. He dropped heavily on the base of the hole.
He didn't know what was down there in the pit. His rage was swelling. He didn't know whether or not what he had said would make any sense to the crazy seven guys.
He didn't even know why some folks couldn't just be sane. He had no idea why some had just made it their sole duty to be tossed everywhere by the words from the mouth of others.
He didn't know what meaning to make of that. He knew that he was never in the sect. He knew what he was made of and of course he could vouch for himself.
He could identify what he was standing for. He could state what he was up to. He knew what he was putting up with.
He knew what he was trying to identify. Twas making sense to him. He didn't know what he was supposed.
He was hoping that he would figure out soon. His hear was plying some rhythmic his instinct couldn't register with.