One tear

He wanted to crawl inside himself, and then vanish from existence. The sirens outside his windows told him that life continued despite everything. He reminded himself, "move forward". He had to move forward, forget the past, ignore the future and focus on the past. It was an elephantine task!
He neither wanted time to stop, nor did he want it to move forward, and he didn't even want it to move backwards. He just wanted time to vanish, and to take him along with it, to wherever land or dimension in which life did not exist. Ceasing to exist was his precious wish.
He always fantasized about it.

Standing on a ledge, high on top of the busy lives of those who cared, of those who had goals, of those who did not have an aching feeling eat them from the inside. His bare feet would always fidget at the edge as wind tickled his toes, and blew his hair away from his face. At such a high altitude, sounds would all mush into unknown frequencies, and huge, fleeting "whooshes", as those who cared, those who had goals moved forward, leaving him behind to fade away. He would slowly move his toes forward, almost toppling over, but not. His heart wouldn't be beating. He knew this moment would come eventually. He would take a confident step towards nothingness, the wind framing his smiling face, his jacket flying around his arms.
And then gravity would take over, but just before it had taken him, it would take the one tear he had shed it, of which no trace would be found.

One tear, one life, we all disappear.


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