Today is my brother’s birthday.
I have not seen or spoken to him in years.
We fought a lot when we were growing up, and it never stopped.
Mom kept trying to get us not to fight and to bury the hatchet, but Dad never got along with his brother, so he totally understood and respected our decision to stay the hell away from each other.
So, when one day my brother shows up, yeah, I buried the hatchet.
Into his chest.
I buried the body in the back yard.
So, yeah, I haven’t seen or spoken to him.
Satisfied?