Stare

His stare held a wish for death near and close.

His body tense and rigid, to the tips of his toes.

Breathing so shallow, so meek. Not an ounce of energy left to wallow.

Life to his left, wife to his right.

Mundane sat before him positioned perfectly on his plate.

Questioning how this serving of life was part of his fate.

Utensils spread in a neat row…

His shadow, the only one who will ever know.

A numbingly familiar touch, a smile, and a sound snaps him back to the ground.

As if he didn’t wish for darkness, he smiles and orders another round.