I entered St. Aidan's Catholic Church in Brookline MA and instantly felt a presence hit me. I felt my chest concave inwards as I approached a young boy. His skin was gingerly and his eyes puffy and swollen as if he had already seen the worst of the world. And yet there was still a boyish charm that a mother could love. There was a secrecy to him and he knew it too. He turned to me and gave me the kind of look you would give to a person who you had seen in a dream. He felt my presence as I did his. I shifted my eyes up and down realizing that I was staring at this young boy who had no idea what he would become and it gave me chills. He then casually blurted out a "good afternoon" and then turned away from me. I glanced towards the back of his head and began to feel sad at the thought of his fate on that November day in 1963. I knew I couldn't warn him but yet I desperately wanted to grasp him and protect him. It's a funny feeling knowing how a man will die and not being able to save them.
The Futurist Co. Secret Society Decoder: Set Your Decoder To 21.
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