Time for a Fiction in 58, an exercise in brevity.
Growing Old
He feels it in every creaky joint, the pains that radiate up his spine – the sins of his past. He limps into the bath, urinates while reaching for a bottle of pills. Both are a response to growing old. He doesn’t turn on the light. He’s fearful of the reflection, the old man that’s replaced his vigor.
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3 comments:
Are you sure this is fiction?
I thought at first when I read "vigor" that it read "Viagra"! LOL. A Freudian slip on my part, perhaps.
Anonymous here, but you know me. And, I'm not a mean or nasty person, so I wouldn't leave you those type of comments either.
makes me want to reach for the aleve myself :(
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