Good hunting
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She looked at him, her face worried. He hand't slept much the past few days. Or weeks, really. He was forgoing food, and people, and mostly everything that wasn't work or any number of stupid hobbies. She was worried sick.
“That’s insane. You are going to hurt yourself like that. You are just…” her voice trailed off, and her face went blank, suddenly realizing.
“Penny in the air...” He said, his voice testing.
“...you are just killing yourself in the most productive way possible.”
“...And the penny drops!.” He said, clapping his hands. “Yes, I so very much am. I don’t want this project to work. I don’t want to get a raise. I don’t want things to get better for me. I don’t want to find someone, or get in better shape, or buy some shiny new toy. Most days, I don’t even want to be. So, in the stealthiest, quietest, least hurtful way for everyone, I’m just speeding up the ride.”
“Speeding up? What the hell do you mean?”
“I’m done with the scenery. I’m done with the road, the journey, whatever you want to call it. I don’t want to crash and burn, to be noisy and flip the table on my way out. That’s not me. I’d much rather make everyone forget about me, but that’s not within my means. So this is my solution. “ He started talking faster and faster, looking at her, through her. ”Or, if you prefer the metaphor, Death is running after all of us, hunting us. I’m not running towards her. I’m just running as fast as I can, trying to tire myself. I run in hopes of getting caught. There is no honour in longing, no dignity in grief. There are only passing days and forced smiles and the knowledge that not only things won’t ever be the same. They won’t be better. So, hopefully, something will take me away before I have to find out what the rest of my life will look like."
“This...this is just crazy. You can’t do that. I won’t allow it.”
His eyes focused again on her, and he barked a coarse, rough laugh. “Crazy? Yes, of course. But there is a method to my madness. And pray tell, whatever will you do? What will you tell them? That I am working hard, and living a good life? It’s expected. That I laugh and smile when the time is proper? Nothing wrong there. That I joke and push and look at everything with fey eyes? That’s kind of new, but still a good thing. That I sometimes look sad? Everyone does, once in a blue moon. Tell them I’m trying to end it. Please do.” He lowered his face to put it at height with hers, a breath away from each other, a manic smile that only touched his lips, and whispered. “No one will believe you.”
