02092025, tuesday
hannibal: do we talk about teacups and time and the rules of disorder?
will: the teacup is broken. its never going to gather itself back together again.
hannibal: not even in your mind?
will: i miss my dogs. i am not going to miss you. i am not going to find you. i am not going to look for you. i don't want to know where you are or what you do. i dont want to think about you anymore.
hannibal: you delight in wickedness and then berate yourself for the delight.
will: you delight. i tolerate. i don't have your appetite. goodbye, hannibal.
but hannibal wanted will to know exactly where he is, where he could always find him. "when life become maddeningly polite, think about me. think about me, will. dont worry about me."