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A QUARTER TO MIDNIGHT!

black-men-image-of-depression

You sitting on the edge of the 7th floor window, feet dangling out in the darkness. From there you can see pretty much everything happening on the Southern side of the estate. A half-full bottle of vodka in your left hand and a phone on the other hand.  Thanks to the alcohol in your system, you no longer feel cold despite being in a vest and shorts. You glance at your wristwatch, it is fifteen minutes to midnight, the deadline. You take another long swig from the bottle. Today this ends, the world will be better off without me