He was a man who by natural proclivity was not a very good man, but who nevertheless tried wholehearted and diligently to be a good man. Not a particularly wealthy man, but not particularly poor either. Every day he'd come home from work in his neatly pressed slacks and button down shirt, and played piano, barefoot. He enjoyed the feel of the cool smooth metal pressing against the arch of his feet. He was a man in the midst of decision. The decision all men make. The decision between his best possible self, and his honest self.
No comments:
Post a Comment