How to Recycle a Burning Box
How to Recycle a Burning Box stories
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I'm looking into the face of the man across from me. We're deadlocked, eye-to-eye, and neither of us say a word. We know the others' thoughts. He's the man who has lost it all tonight. Standing there, cigarette in lips - his arms too weak to hold it. A metaphor for what got him here, no doubt.
By MikeyKnutson https://www.reddit.com/r/...

How to Recycle a Burning Box

by MikeyKnutson

I'm looking into the face of the man across from me. We're deadlocked, eye-to-eye, and neither of us say a word. We know the others' thoughts.

He's the man who has lost it all tonight. Standing there, cigarette in lips - his arms too weak to hold it. A metaphor for what got him here, no doubt.

"When was the last time you slept?" I wonder to myself. The bags under his eyes are unbearable to witness.

"What about food? Don't you eat?"

I know these answers. Once a man has gone through this kind of loss - through an extraordinary pain like this - insomnia and starvation no longer exist.

Eyes still locked. Smoke still burning. I break the mirror.

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