I am late submitting my Sunday Photo Fiction story this week. We recently lost a favorite pet and things just haven’t been the same. If my story seems to be on the dark side, well, its just been one of those dark weeks. 

Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding

He must have been the most miserable man to walk the face of the earth.

It was understandable. The thankfully-last child of a large family, his father abused him emotionally and his mother drowned her own pain in beer. His older sisters coddled and pampered him as they would their favorite doll. No wonder he grew up with mixed signals: was he loved, or merely tolerated?

When he was of age, he married a woman as emotionally fragile as himself. She needed him until she didn’t. They should have divorced but neither one would give in, so they endured each other at best. His bitterness absorbed him, causing him to lash out at those closest to him, unapologetic for his actions. This man could never admit to being wrong. In his world, life was absolute. Success or failure. Right or wrong. Black or white. The glass was never half-anything. It was either full or empty.

They say that at the end of every dark tunnel, there is light that is hope. In his case, however, the light really was a train.

Why his car stalled on the tracks is still a mystery

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