For a long time, as I’ve observed human nature at its worst, I’ve become fond of saying that “I’m not surprised, only disappointed” or “nothing surprises me anymore, but a lot of things disappoint me.”
Yesterday, I presented a writing program at the Pima Country Library in Green Valley and the last part of it dealt with my works in progress, including the book about the murder of Stacey Burns. A brief description of that book led many of those attending to express their surprise that the case has not been solved after six and a half years. My answer was, as you might have guessed, a variation on the above theme. I was surprised at the end of the first year; that surprise turned to disappointment, a disappointment that has become increasingly bitter as years go by.
The disappointment at this point is so deep that it is difficult to express in words.
Am I alone in this feeling?