"Do you wake up in the morning and need help to lift your head?"
He dragged himself out of bed, barely coherent, and fell back onto the covers staring at the cieling. Will today be the day?
"Do you read obituaries and feel jealous of the dead?"
He slapped the newspaper down on the coffee table, afraid, and tormented by the lucky souls free to roam without burden. He put his forehead in his hands and sighed with the weight of the world crushing him, suffocating him.
"It's like living on a cliffside not knowing when you'll dive.
Do you know, do you know what it's like to die alive?"
It sat on his mantle...
continue reading...
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