Places People Go
Places People Go
2002
B ecause this was the way of the world.
There were places.
Where a man with money could hide his resources from public scrutiny.
There were places.
Where a man could go to hide himself.
There were ways.
That a man could disappear.
Be feared lost forever amid a disastrous event.
Be searched for, but never found.
Find himself walking away from a coffee shop, stunned, but safe.
Then running in the other direction.
There were times.
When a widow might leave her old life behind.
To distance herself from a tragedy that had left her alone.
To retire to a quiet offshore estate.
Far from the unrelenting gaze of the media.
Take her jewelry with her.
Take her late husband’s art collection.
Take a lover who resembled her husband.
Though he was different.
Tucker’s hair had been the color of a darkened room.
Black with hints of gray.
Her lover’s hair was blond.
Bleached bright as the midday sun.
Glinting above his middle-aged forehead like the promise of a second chance.
There were places.
Where, throughout the ages, people have been able to go.
To live without accountability.