The Odious by Joseph Vingelman (readnow txt) 📕

were figments of his imagination, but were undoubtedly real while still under the spell of denial. A pain, a real pain, now shot into his stomach bringing him to his knees and to the point of nausea, for he knew he would never be able to go back to the way things were. The dream world that occupied his past days was a substitute he had probably willingly succumbed to so as to meet the pressures of the unoccupied wasteland. Something that was now, unfortunately, inaccessible due to his new found clarity. He giggled under his breath for a moment realizing the union he could consummate, the possibility in all probability. He went over to one of the cupboards above the sink, opened it, and beneath some more ash laden undershirts and cans took out his .45 caliber pistol. Releasing the magazine, he examined it, and then re-inserted it. He cocked it. Then walking over to the table housing a picture of a now unrecognizable family he sat down and looked at the picture, aimed the gun, and fired a round into his left temple.
Imprint

Publication Date: 11-19-2009

All Rights Reserved