Boy Swallows Universe

by Trent Dalton

I’ve been thinking lately, Alex, that every problem in the world, every crime ever committed, can be traced back to someone’s dad. Robbery, rape, terrorism, Cain putting a job on Abel, Jack the Ripper, it all goes back to dads. Mums maybe too, I guess, but there ain’t no shit mum in this world that wasn’t first the daughter of a shit dad.

The downside is life is short and has to end. The upside is it comes with bread, wine and books.

‘Sacrifice,’ he said. ‘Never grow attached to anything you can’t instantly separate yourself from.’

He stares into my eyes and he tries to understand me and I think he does because he breathes and that’s what humans do. We breathe. And we think. But we get mad too. We get so sad and we get so mad.

‘You know what I realised in all that time with my mouth shut?’ ‘What?’ ‘Most things people say don’t need to be said,’ he says.

‘I’m not interested in crime as much as the people who commit crimes.’ ‘What interests you about the people?’ ‘I’m interested in how they got to the point they got to. I’m interested in that moment when they decided to be bad instead of good.’

Timing, planning, luck, belief. I believe.

Maybe we’d all be much more effective communicators if we all shut up more.

Maybe all men are bad sometimes and all men are good sometimes. It’s just a matter of timing.