The Precipice

He strolled along the precipice, gazing into the blackness that would one day consume him. He looks away back to the reality he abhors, back to looking at the ground, away from judging eyes. He never quite knew why he couldn’t look into their eyes, whether it was the fear of being judged or the fear of seeing their emotions, empathising with them, seeing all their pains and tragedies. He had enough of those, he didn’t need more. “Why don’t I just fall? Let it consume me. What is this force that keeps me going? It would be so much easier.” He wondered, taking comfort in his inevitable demise, his inevitable plummet into the depths of his own darkness. He walked home hoping a tragedy would befall him, every corner a new hopeful danger, removing him from his responsibilities, the responsibilities of being the harbinger of his own end. He arrives home safely, “Not today.”

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