Monday's Fiction in 58
Time for a Fiction in 58, an exercise in brevity.
Growing Old
He feels it in every creaky joint, the pains that radiate up his spine – the sins of his past. He limps into the bath, urinates while reaching for a bottle of pills. Both are a response to growing old. He doesn’t turn on the light. He’s fearful of the reflection, the old man that’s replaced his vigor.
Growing Old
He feels it in every creaky joint, the pains that radiate up his spine – the sins of his past. He limps into the bath, urinates while reaching for a bottle of pills. Both are a response to growing old. He doesn’t turn on the light. He’s fearful of the reflection, the old man that’s replaced his vigor.
Comments
Anonymous here, but you know me. And, I'm not a mean or nasty person, so I wouldn't leave you those type of comments either.