She put the phone down and let out a sigh of relief. At least there was some hope for a happy life. She was tired and before she knew it, she was lost in deep slumber.
I just stood there, facing– my sombre reflection on the glass and the question I had been asking myself. How long will we keep doing this?
Everyone was running out towards the road. Two mangled cars were setting off smoke and shrieked onlookers were too stunned to do anything.
In my crazy, extremely drunken mind I realized, I did care about my wife and my child. My feet were moving and since when I do not remember, but they were leading me somewhere.
It was hard to see how easy it was to bring down a man, bring down anyone, with the weight of loss. That beneath the many layers of skin, bone and muscle, there was just a blow of gray news
The thought of paper boats and splashy puddles bubbled up more excitement in him. His breath fogged the glass; he was yearning too much. Too much, too hard.
I was finally retiring from the cumbersome routine of taking and giving lives. It was my last day at work and I could hardly get excited
It didn’t matter what your drug of choice is– cocaine, ex, glue, codeine, bitter alcohol– all that mattered was how hard you could try to get that one little fix in time.
Even as death scraped her grey alloy, and the tires ground themselves to the asphalt, she knew what she wanted. She knew what she wanted
I would not be meeting with my wife for another hour or so. Today was special. It was our three-year anniversary, and I was knee-deep in useless ideas to please her