Tuesday, April 6, 2010
It had begun to wane into that odd transitional state; the pain hadn’t been stinging like it did days prior. The fear of uncertainty wasn’t looming over his head, creating the overcast it was designed to do.
The ash tray sat secured next to the bed; the reminisce of sleepless nights, and evidence of eventual cancer strewn about. He laid there secured in the thoughts, that what seemed like hours before threatened him with eventual destruction. He laughed at this ridiculous assumption. His strength transcended the grasp of the intangible.
Grabbing the pack that was on the bed next to him, he pulls out yet another cigarette; why had he given up drinking, there was much more comfort that came from the rye fields of Virginia, than the tobacco plantations in the Carolinas. Whatever each had done their job in subduing his anguish, if only for the moments they rested in his grasp.
His phone rang, time and time again… likely another friend going through their rounds to check on him. It felt like pity more than genuine concern; he couldn’t imagine being in their position. They wanted their friend back, the guy that seemed to epitomize joy and curiosity. Now he basked in his cynicism and certainty. This is who he really was, this is who he had always been, he had just never really let anyone in on this secret.