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Taylor's Time!


Adam's gone away for the weekend, so that means I'm in control!

Then again, when does he ever have control?

I'll have to think about that.

Anyway, Taylor's back this week with a standalone microfiction. It's kinda dark, kinda deep, but worth reading.

Don't forget to sign up for my newsletter - I have a new one out TOMORROW!

-- Kendra


Trigger Warning: 

Suicidal Ideations

Sam sat hunched over the edge of the bridge. His tattered shirt and shorts were soiled by dust, sweat, and rain. He'd been wearing the same outfit for weeks, long past caring about his appearance. The black duffle bag at his side was cluttered with tainted memories and broken promises. His stomach searched in vain for food. Finding none, it sucked what little nutrients his muscles still contained. His arms trembled, his hands clutching the edge, his mind pushing him to let go and jump to his death. 

His body refused. 

Why? Why would it do this to him? Why couldn't he just let go and be free of his pain? 

Tears mixed with rain, leaving dirty streaks. Cars whooshed past him, the drivers seeing him as nothing more than an unremarkable shape in the gloom. He knew it would be like this. He was always invisible and felt that way his whole life.

He swallowed hard, thinking of his son, Lewie. His son, his love-bug, was the sweetest boy he'd ever known, full of hugs, happiness, and light. If it wasn't for his wife. If she hadn't taken their son away, if she hadn't won the custody battle, if she hadn't kicked him out, he and Lewie would still be together. 

Sam’s fingers loosened their grip on the ledge. His muscles tensed, his body preparing for the long plunge into the icy waters below. He closed his eyes, building the will to move. When he opened them, a familiar figure appeared beside him. It was Lewie, or at least, that's what Sam thought. It was a faded, nearly transparent version of his son, and he knew it was a figment of his imagination. He turned his head slowly towards the boy. Tears streamed down the child's tanned face as he mouthed the words, “I wanna live with you.”

In a string of memories, a father and son fought to stay together in a courtroom. The child screamed and cried as he was pulled away from his father. Anguish echoed through the courtroom as the boy called out, over and over, willing the words to change reality. “I wanna live with you, Papa! Don't let her take me! I wanna live with you!”

Sam, whose heart had been ripped out that day, looked at the faded boy and wondered what would happen if he jumped tonight. The imaginary child’s tears said it all. Lewie would be heartbroken, lost without his father. He'd resent him, forever feeling like a piece of him was missing from his life. He'd feel unloved, unwanted, invisible. Perhaps he too, would experience the same dark thoughts his father was experiencing now.  

The boy blinked, peering into the water. His little hands let go of the ledge, and his tiny body dropped forty feet down. Sam’s heart leaped from his chest. His chest tightened as he watched his son fall to the death he'd chosen for himself. There was no splash, no ripple of the water as Sam had expected. The figment disappeared in a cloud of nothingness. 

Sam’s fingers clenched tighter at the ledge. He thought of Lewie and made his decision. 

He jumped from the edge, his worn sneakers splashing onto the wet sidewalk. He swallowed down his suffering, bitter though it was, and carried the weight of the world on his shoulders like a modern-day Atlas. He walked until he couldn't walk any further and slept beneath a filthy overpass. Only the thought of his son kept him alive and warm. His heart hammered with purpose again, every beat shouting his son's name. 


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