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TWENTY-ONE

Klyde sagged on the seat of his car, the back of his head bumping at the headrest, hands resting on the steering wheel as he gently killed the engine. He heaved a heavy sigh. He feels so tired, even more so than usual. The events of today left him with whirlwind of emotions, and now he just feels really, extremely exhausted. Fatigue is creeping into his bone, seeping into his mind leaving it buzzing like an empty television screen.

Eventually, when he found the small strength to move his body, he stepped out of his car. The soft sound of its closing door left an empty feeling on him. It’s as if he’s floating as he trudged his way to the elevator. His footsteps are heavy, much like his heart at the moment.