Tyrone Tyrone was at the end of his days. He looked around him and all he could see was prosperity. There was no reason why he should feel so content, though. He had killed men. He had slit throats in the city streets that were now whitewashed and pristine.
So he sat and died and tried to feel like everything he had done was right.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
This world has feeling after death.
ReplyDeleteI've decided.
Also, neck-beards. (Sometimes. Probably just for women.)
No, but seriously, this is good. It feels a bit like the Hemingway short story.
ReplyDeleteIt's just a question, not an answer. Therefore, I shouldn't have written it. It has nothing to add to the sum of human existence. It has nothing of me in it. It's just Socrates. I hate him a bit.
ReplyDeleteYes, yes, that exactly. I hate Socrates more than a bit.
ReplyDelete