The Future Is Real
He sits alone in the dark with his arms around his legs. He knows life is a series of choices, and he retraces his with an almost scathing scrutiny. What would a flowchart of his life look like? He assumes others would see his choices as unorthodox, bizarre, even insane. He only wishes he had time to keep choosing the wild side, to keep traveling roads only seen on TV. He certainly would were it not for the encroaching gray in the looking glass - the unrelenting reminder that he is dying slowly, not quickly.