Stumbling home one night, a man's own mission to end his life was thwarted by none other than his inability to stand straight. Long nights and short days plaguing him, it was not to be any surprise when three men who embodied a different phase of the moon were met with sullen heart. With one mirror back to his own life standing blocking his path ahead, and another holding his keys, he stopped in his tracks, listened close, and resolved to a night of earthly rest on a couch he's never known, in yet another home he never got to grow. At 3:30am while the man lay fast asleep, his phone rang and fought loud in his pocket met by nothing but automated voicemail.
He awoke to a home he didn't remember, with cars he's never seen, with men still under the nights spell rising and falling loudly from behind cracked open doors. His keys were placed plainly by his damaged helmet, and without a word he made a call, nodding quietly in the front yard before thundering off into the murky new dawn.
I hope that man found his answers. I have a feeling, deep down, that he did.
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