Please Hear What I Am Not Saying, Charles C. Finn, 1966

He watched the clothes being shoved into the duffel.

"Stockwell ain't gonna like this, y'know."


He sighed. "Hannibal, neither."

"Hannibal can go to..."

"Hey!" He sighed, practically feeling the tension vibrating off the other man. Been like that for days now.

"He'd go with you."

"Don't need him. You're coming...unless you've changed your mind."

"Just don't want you burnin any bridges."

"Look, if you don't want to go, just say so. I'm not begging you..."

"Said I'd go; I'll go."

"...probably be bored stiff, anyway. Listening to some guy ramble on about people you don't even know..."

"I'm goin."

"...and the guy seems like a real loser..."


"...and from what he said, none of them were pillars of society, just..."

He scowled, reaching over and stopping the hands that were practically shoving the clothes through the duffel.

"Don't matter what they were, Faceman." He stepped back. "I'm goin."