The storm brews outside. It’s autumn, by date, but summer is lingering. The sun sticks around now and then. She had a late start this year. This was my choice until the lightning struck where a soul once lived.
She visits the man despite his evil nature. She is the same, only better at finding a hiding place. She lives in the heat and hides in the cold. It’s all she’s ever known.
The silver car drives out into the night for twelve hours of sadism and misery. “It’s for the money,” he says. What else?
Or perhaps, deep down he likes it. He sold his soul long ago and lost his peace of mind. Now he suffers and spreads it to others around him like a virus. Misery loves company, they say.
He’s selfish, like me, in that way. This is all we have and we have to do our best. Without trying, there’s nothing left. Nothing more than life and death.
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