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“He jerked his arm back, nearly launched the car keys into the sea, stopped just short of letting go. He needed the car, now more than ever. The idea flattened him. His arm fell limp to his side, the keys back in his pocket. Draining the rest of his whiskey, he settled for hurling the glass into vast ocean darkness. The bottle followed shortly after, though he stumbled in the throw and ended up breaking it on the end of the pier. He made his way back to the laptop. He didn’t learn anything important. Story of his life.” — S.R. Hughes
He jerked his arm back, nearly launched the car keys into the sea, stopped just short of letting go. He needed the car, now more than ever. The idea flattened him. His arm fell limp to his side, the keys back in his pocket. Draining the rest of his whiskey, he settled for hurling the glass into vast ocean darkness.
The bottle followed shortly after, though he stumbled in the throw and ended up breaking it on the end of the pier.
He made his way back to the laptop.
He didn’t learn anything important.
Story of his life.