Here’s a story, related to ‘Uncertainty’ and completely unedited.

Everyone always looks the same this early in the morning. All suits and ties. Pretty boring, but the worst thing is, I’m like them too. I realised far too late that I had succumbed to the same meagre existance. Sometimes I wish I was unemployed so that I could use it as an excuse to be a writer. I’m far too frightened to do that now. Like everyone else, I try to convince myself that I’m only doing this for the money, that I’ll find something better soon. Who am I kidding? I’ll do this for as long as I live, and then die of heart failure and stress or something like that. That’s how the government wants to keep it. Reasonably low life expectancy so they don’t have to waste money on sheltered housing. Brainwashed to believe there’s nothing else to life but this. This. It frightens me. Success is extinct. Something people look back on and think, if only I’d been born twenty years earlier.

With this thought plaguing my mind, I am saddened. I’ve thought of every escape. The only possibility is death, which will be my way out no matter whether I bring it on myself or wait another 30 years for it.

I stop for a moment and observe the world. I notice a scruffy looking man sit dejectedly on the icy bench in the middle of the street. Heh. One of those types. The ones who refuse to join our lifestyle in favour of a penniless life, full of ‘inspiration’. Wait, wasn’t that what I wanted a few minutes ago? Maybe I’m jealous, but I don’t want to accept that. I don’t want to lose what I have, whatever that might be. Maybe I should talk to him.

If he’s there when I get back from work I might talk to him. These sort sometimes sit there all day. But I’m important! I have no time to lose!

Trying to look purposeful, I stand up and head for work.