This is my first attempt at writing Oz, even though the action takes place outside of it. Beecher post Keller suicide, out of prison, angst. Honestly, it's not much, but
pride_of_erin (thanks, honey!) said it's good, so:
It’s pointless. Booze and heroin don’t work. His kids are not enough. Not thinking about it doesn’t help, though he tries. At noon he faces the window in his office, the door locked.
He’s been spouting sentimental bullshit for an hour but he doesn’t care. The sun had no right to shine without him.
Before the thought is completed, the gun is in his hand. He’s not shaky… He positions the gun… A loud bang echoes, assaulting his ears. The shattering of glass immediately follows it.
He sighs.
Despite his best efforts, the sun continues its pointless march, ignorant to mortal pain.