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Stephen the Failure

Stephen lay on the damp sidewalk contemplating the wrongness of life. Had he been wrong this whole time? Or maybe the world was just unfair. Either way, the reality was that he was bleeding to death. Very slowly and very painfully but in a relaxing way. He had his eyes closed and was listening to bustling of people and the sounds of the city. The familiar pitter-patter of rain on his face smelled of pollution and home. The rain mixed with his blood and sank into his wound. He felt as though he was some fallen leaf dead and slowly being reclaimed into the soils of life. Although he wasn't quite dead and the only thing he was doing was covering the sidewalk in blood. However, the first one sounded much more poetic to him. Being poetic is important if one wants to sound smart in the world. Stephen continued to lay in a pool of his own creation and began to think how ironic life could be. This was interrupted though as his body started to lift into the air. In a moment of fancy Stephen thought he was on his way to the pearly gates but his realism caught him and he ended up in the hands of a blue medical stretcher. It seemed pretty pointless considering how he had at least five or six knives shaped holes in his stomach. As he was carried to the ambulance reality struck him hard. He realized in sweating horror that he didn't have his wallet or his phone on him. Now how were the paramedics supposed to know where to bury him and what to put on the grave? Again though reality swung at him and he realized it didn't matter when he was fucking dead. Now things were different though. Stephen lay in the speeding ambulance contemplating something about life. At some point, he had known what he was thinking about but that had been before he’d started contemplating. The unfortunate result of any sort of contemplation was that it actually resulted in more unanswerable questions than you had started with. Stephen had only been accumulating confusion like lightbulbs attract moths or like stomachs attract knives. Contemplating life seems to be much like studying particles of matter. The more one knows about where he is in the universe the less he knew about who he was right now. He did know something though. Life isn't fair. Up until this point, Stephen had been a pretty good guy. However, his one grievous weakness was his desire to save people. All his life he’d wanted that opportunity to save someone in their moment of need. He’d always been too lazy to actively pursue helping people. However, that didn't dissuade him from fantasizing about having the opportunity to save another's life. Then it had happened. He saw women getting mugged late at night on a shady corner. He saw the knife sink into her flesh as the greedy monster slid the purse off her shoulder. In a moment of pure cowardice and stupidity, Stephen had confronted the man. As he swung his arm up into a glorious right hook the bastard had thrust the knife into him like 6 times. The only time he had ever really tried to help others in his life he had just ended up turning everything into shittier shit. Instead of hiding and calling the paramedics he had decided to be a hero and get himself some new holes.

© 2017 Nick Gard

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