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American Stoic Part 1


The stupid man awakens in the bloody shower. “she left me” he remembers. Wedding today. Wedding off. The time is 6:03 a.m. Just enough time to cover his war wounds. Be at the gym by 0-six-thirty his boss said. Three methods tried and three methods failed. Miracle? Counteracted each other he guesses. Depressants v. Bloodletting, story at six-a.m. Wrists burning, shower still slapping his face he wearily rises. The scarred man rolls the shower dial, the slapping fades out and he shuffles to the mirror, blood drips from his wrists. Shit-coloured eyes appraise and find life wanting. “This is who I am” the foolish man says to no-one at all. The day begins.

Categories: Fiction Prose

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I'm a high school English teacher in Texas. I also hold degrees in radiography and radio and television broadcasting. Though I obtained certain knowledge and skills from my prior degrees, I do not currently use them.

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