seven minutes to kill
show up and go up
I gave into an impulse.
The bug got the better of me.
I saw an opportunity and I couldn’t help myself.
Once there, I felt at home, happy even.
Completely unprepared I was calm.
I knew what was coming.
I would either kill or die.
Death was most likely.
I was filled with joy at the prospect of it.
With little pride and an inability to be humiliated any more than I’ve been in my life, I sent out a barrage of texts.
Telling others would make it real.
Telling others might find me a witness to my madness.
Telling others put me on the hook.
The stakes? They were low.
No reputational damage.
No one was going to get hurt.
There would be no oil spills or environmental disasters.
The secret police wouldn’t come looking for me.
No money to burn through.
Nope. No. Big. Deal
Merely a few hours on a Tuesday night.
Why then did I make this small, simple action such a big deal?
Anyway. I did it.
I went out.
I made the decision on an impulse.
I like being impulsive and this…