Daily Struggles of a "Writer"

I guess this is cool. Maybe.

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Again

Again, the sour taste of copper hung deep in Kyle’s throat, right in an area where swallowing had no effect and where no other flavor could overtake it. Holding his side, he stumbled into his bedroom where his wife slept. Blissfully unaware. The blood had begun to trickle off his fingers when he hobbled across the hardwood floor of the place he called home. From outside, the moon cast a pearl shadow over his beloved.

“I may be on my way out, but at least I know I’m alive… right now.”

Kyle wished to take a seat at the edge of the bed, but thought better of it when he considered the possibility of blood stains. And so, he slid to the floor and began to wonder where his life had gone so horribly wrong.

The actual attack on his life was so mundane that he wondered if he had somehow failed as a human being. A thug requested some money and slid his sharp friend deep into Kyle’s side when he refused. Altogether, it took less than two minutes.

“You think that this world would give me at least one time to shine.”

In his final moments, Kyle shared a laugh with himself. He had no regrets. He would not allow himself any. Ghosts of his memories surrounded him as a pale white light formed in the distance. The pastor who tied him eternally to the love of his life gave him a nod as he struggled to his feet. The young boy who bullied him at the playground who would eventually turn into his best friend in older age helped him along. Once he had reached the light, his wife stood before him and gave him a wink.

“Did you do it correctly this time?”

“Not entirely sure, to be honest.”

“We’ll see which side you come out on.”

Confused, Kyle felt propelled through the light and… again, the sour taste of copper hung deep in Kyle’s throat, right in an area where swallowing had no effect and where no other flavor could overtake it.

“Damnit.”

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