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I'm not relentless. "Relentless" makes it sound like there's something called "relent" and that I'm lacking it. In that sense, I'm not relentless, but perhaps I'm unrelenting. I could relent if I wanted to. But he always has to die. I mean "always" in two senses: at all times and all of the time. I can't kill him all of the time. That would take too long. But all of the times I did, I did. I'd do it again. I could relent if I wanted to, but instead I'd do it again. If he's different, then he's the same and if he's the same, he's got to go. If he were different and not the same, then there would be two things and I'd only have to kill one of them. If only I only had to kill one of him. What a life I would live, if only I only had to kill him the one time. But death doesn't always do him in.
Charlene Elsby is a philosophy doctor and former professor whose books include Hexis, The Devil Thinks I'm Pretty, and Violent Faculties. Her short stories, essays and interviews have appeared in Southwest Review, Wanted, Bustle Books, The Chicago Review of Books, The Millions, and the LA Review of Books.
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