“Nothing’s wrong,” Harry said ”I’m fine” He’d gotten so used to saying those words that he almost believed it himself. Had it not been for the way he felt.
The truth was that Harry was ready to give up. He couldn’t deal with it anymore. He couldn’t go on living like this.
Tonight, he was in a bar with his two best friends. Tuesday nights had been a ritual for the three of them for as long as they had been allowed to drink.
“You don’t look fine,” Andrew told him.
“Well I am” Harry took another sip from his beer, trying to hide any tells that his face might hold.
He was sick of always answering the same questions. Why didn’t they just give up? Like Harry had.
This was the last Tuesday at the bar. Harry had made up his mind.
“How about I get us all another drink?” Jake said.
“Nah, I’m good,” Harry said as he was trying to get his hand into his jacket. “I’m taking off.”
“Alright, see ya,” His friends said in unison.
They wouldn’t see Harry again.
Harry took in the fresh air outside. It was a beautiful night. He looked at the full moon, fitting, he thought, that the moon would be full on a night like this.
Harry was walking quickly down the street. He knew where his legs were taking him; the bridge wasn’t far.
Soon he wouldn’t have to answer the same old questions over and over. Soon he would be free from everything that had wronged him in this life.
Soon he would be dead.
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Categories: flash fiction