An Extremly Short Story.

What to Do
He was not depressed, he had no reason to scorn life, but the simple fact loomed, his was over.

The barrel was firmly pressed to his head. " Should I pull the trigger?" The thought crossed his mind and danced endlessly on his consciousness. " What was left?" he asked himself.

There was nothing left to accomplish, he had accompished all he ever wanted to. "There's nothing for me." he told himself.

He had nothing to look forward to. He had loved and lost, her picture was ever present on his mantel. She looked beautiful in her wedding dress. Her memory now stood along side her ashes. "I should do it." he told himself.

He had no more to leave behind. His children had long exited his life. He loved them to such a degree that words would be short-handed in trying to express, but they were gone from his care, they were their own people
now, he was not necessary anymore. "I will do it." he convinced himself.

The gun was cold. What could he be now but a burden. What could he do now but slowly dig though time untill the end. He was not a man who scorned life but the simple fact loomed, his was over.

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I was thinking of making this into a poem after I wrote but decided to keep it the way it was.