~Fin~: A Really Short Fiction

Tuesday April 8th, 2008
7:43am

They say the everyday grind will eventually kill you. I used to smirk at such a ridiculous notion, but today? Today I am a believer as my hand is suddenly cold and stiff. I try to move my fingers to bring back some sort of circulation, but it is proving to be an exercise of futility. Here I am, on the back of the BXM9 heading to my sale associate position at Green-Taylor Publications in Chelsea. Sitting here realizing I am losing this fight to remain conscious as I glare at the water by the FDR. Failing to form a call for help, I try to replace my fear with false courage. Like a bad pun, I’m scared to death.

I have so much to do, to see, to accomplish, but God has a sick sense of humor as Depeche Mode once sang. So sudden, no chance to prepare myself, but when has death decided to play a considerate host to the after-life. Is there an after-life? As much as I dismiss the Bible, I find myself mentally praying. Maybe it was one last plea. Why would God want to help someone who doubts He even exists? I decide to not continue my act and just give in to whatever is about to happen.

On my iPod Touch, the current song selection rests on a Nine Inch Nails song that would be perfect for this send off I didn’t expect nor want:



staring at the sea
will she come?
is there hope for me
after all is said and done
anything at any price
all of this for you
all the spoils of a wasted life
all of this for you
all the world has closed her eyes
tried faith all worn and thin
for all we could have done
and all that could have been

ocean pulls me close
and whispers in my ear
the destiny I've chose
all becoming clear
the currents have their say
the time is drawing near
washes me away
makes me disappear

I descend from grace
in arms of undertow
I will take my place
in the great below

I can still feel you
even so far away

And with my eyes close
My breath slowing
My face calm and at peace
Slightly slump my body and take in the final ray of light I could feel on the back on my eyelids. And with my last thought, she appears, punctual and exact. Stacey. As much as I was fooling myself, as much as I didn’t want to admit or realize she was the woman I was in love with. Miscommunication and outside interferences caused us to part on not so friendly terms. I find myself mouthing these words: “What have I d…”

I can still feel you
even so far away