He walked toward the bus stop. It was a chilly night, the wind cutting into his bones. He was tired.
As he rounded the corner, he paused, wheezing.
By some standards he was a successful man but life hadn´t been any joy ride. It had been rocky and fear-torn, filled with doubts, disappointments, hangovers.
He realized he was more than half glad he was almost at the end of his road. Life, he saw now, had really been a struggle not worth the bother.
There was the bus, half a block ahead, and he was going to miss it.
He began to run and stumbled as a cold hand squeezed tight around his heart. The sidewalk sprang up to meet him, and he knew this was death. For a startled instant he fought for control, and then he relaxed as the blackness swept down.
He opened his eyes again and looked around. He wailed in despair as the hand firmly slapped his rear and breath roared into his lungs.
1 comment:
Good words.
Post a Comment