Every evening, I drive the same 68 miles home, contemplating meetings, and decisions, and the price of gas.
X-rays that didn't show anything abnormal, until after the cat scan.
An anomaly they called it, probably nothing serious. Nailed that one didn't ya?
Even when they said it, I didn't really hear. My head was in water. Lips moving, but speaking about the guy before me, probably. The one without kids and a wife. What is up with that one moustache hair? He probably lives alone.
Life stopped at 4:28 on Monday.
Tell her? Right after the meatloaf. Sure. She can't handle the dog tracking mud on the floor, and she thinks I went to work on Monday. "Why are you leaving so early for work"? she asked.
Then again, we have choices. All the way. This doesn't control my Now, it's still mine.
Almost to the tightest turn. The one without the guard rail. One last time to break the speed limit, see what this thing will do, no fear of fines...just mail it to me.
Better to burn out, than fade away.
Reliving that moment again and again. As I lay here and my kids can't even look me in the fucking eyes when they visit me now. Weak.
