No life (short story)

He lay sprawled across his bed. He turned and looked up at his reflection on the mirrored ceiling. What had possessed him to put mirrored glass there? Even he had to admit he was not a pretty sight. He’d been on another bender the night before and lord knows how he’d managed to find his way home. But he had and had even managed to get most of his clothes off before collapsing in a drunken heap on the bed. He scanned the room to find his shirt hanging off the wardrobe, trousers on top of the chest of drawers and shreddies on the head board. There he lay in all his glory, nothing on but a pair of old socks with holes in the toes.

He was 35, very single and still lived at home. Even he had to admit his life was a joke. With a numbed brain, he began to contemplate where the last 10 years had gone. How he’d squandered a promising career and wasted his potential on booze and drugs.
As he lay there, naked and emotionally exposed he made a decision to change. He didn’t want to continue living life like this. This was no life.
It was now time to do something about it.

© Jacky Leonard 2015

Authors Notes

Written at a Montpellier Writers Group session

Advertisements

No comments yet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: