It was a somber day.
The city’s favourite son was traded. A fiery right hander, full of swagger.
Some accepted fate; others were sharpening pitchforks and lighting torches. Nevertheless, we were all upset.
I rode the elevator and when it stopped on the sixth floor, the favourite son boarded. He was angry and his clothes reeked of smoke from a burned bridge.
We all followed one rule: Never talk to the players.
I ignored it.
“I’m really gonna miss you,” I told him. “Wish things could’ve gone differently.”
He turned to me and forced a smile.
“Me too,” he said.
Sober Second Thought
A sober second thought was offered inside a tattoo parlour.
“You sure this is what you want?” asked the artist.
“Definitely,” replied the customer.
“Front of the neck?”
“Front of the neck.”
“Satanic eagle on a background of fire, on the neck?”
“What’s going to happen when you go for a job interview?”
“Don’t plan on working.”
“What about family functions? Parties, weddings, bar mitzvahs, parent-teacher interviews. It’ll be part of every photo. It’ll be part of every first impression.”
“Yolo,” said with a smirk.
“Okay…let’s get started.”
A sober second was declined inside a tattoo parlour.
Tom was a good man.
Never broke the rules. Did things the right way. Stayed in his lane.
Tom stood outside a house at 3am. He was seething.
Tom’s spouse was inside that house, having sex with a man that wasn’t Tom.
The man who wasn’t Tom parked his Mercedes on the street. It mocked Tom.
Tom didn’t like being mocked.
Tom found a rock and threw it at the front window of the Mercedes. The sound of glass shattering was cathartic.
At that moment, the devil entered Tom.
There was no going back.
Tom wasn’t a good man anymore.
We came very close
An infinite silence was finally broken.
He looked at me with a cold stare.
“I just have to press this button,” he said. “And then it’s all over; no more violence, illness, poverty, and no more technology.”
“Are you sure this is the way you want to go out?” I asked.
“I created it and I can destroy it too!” he snapped back.
His finger then traced button several times before he let out a heavy sigh.
“Dammit,” he said dejectedly. “I just can’t do it.”
He got up and left the room.
“Maybe they’ll figure it out,” he mumbled.