hiding for the 'cest and bad language. no real spoilers of recent seasons.
Almost everyone wore sunglasses. Didn’t matter what kind of person you were; preppy, jock, nerd, financial douche bag, poor kid or rich kid. If there was a sun in the sky, out came the shades. For most people, it wasn’t a style, but more a necessary accessory.
Not for his brother. For him, sunglasses were like the jeans and leather jacket; a statement of coolness and being tough. He wore them and suddenly there was an extra shield of ‘don’t fuck with me’ about two feet deep. People noticed. He’d seen them noticing practically all of his life. Certainly all of his adult life.
He’d noticed. Every time the sunglasses went on to hide the eyes now, the windows to the once-damned soul were not only closed, but shuttered and barred. It happened all the time these days, long hours spent driving just an excuse to keep away, keep apart.
Used to be, the sunglasses said, “Come out and play, if you think you can handle me.”
Now they just said, “Come near me and die, motherfucker.”
One of these days, one day very soon, Sam was going to break those damn sunglasses.