Friday, November 25, 2016

Not Hard Core Enough

He couldn't decide how to do it. Something slow to ease into it or just a quick finish. The day could not have been more lovely, nor the moon more haunting. Its crescent sharp against the earth shine of the shadow against a deep sea of indigo. Sleep had left him early, about three, so he sat up to watch the moon, to taste the chill of the desert. November nights... so lovely they all but crippled him. It would be hard to say good bye. Or not. Harder to keep going. It's all about costs and benefits in the end. He kept working the numbers, this way and then that, every angle, but they failed to add up, to solve the puzzle. It would take drastic measures, more than he had bargained for. Hard decisions, these that point to territory untracked, silence unbroken. He wished he had learned, while there was still time, to take life as the joke that it was. She had tried to teach him by example, by hard work, by dignity. In the end it would come down to the central question: Should he make breakfast himself or take the easy way out and go to Frank's for the two dollar special? One thing at a time.  

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