the brink of death, yet living. But what did he have to live for?
He swayed, as if underwater, but didn’t fall over. He just swayed. The he raised the gun in his hand and pointed it to his forhead. Closing his eyes, he pressed the cool metal barrel against his skin.
Goodbye, world. Or, what’s left of it.
His finger calmly, resolvedly, pressed the trigger.
And then, blessedly, he was no longer alone.