Suicide, never mind, tomorrow has got to be a better day.
Vern Bender
A gentle spring rain was falling. She couldn’t take it anymore. She thought she was only a drink away from committing suicide. On the bright side, suicide does allow you to skip the hospital bed. Death sometimes hesitates and delays, and sometimes not.
She found herself in a sleazy crosstown bar, drinking with regret. Day drinking is less fun than it used to be. She had tossed about a fifth of scotch today, and Disneyland was only a few more shots away.
Hardcore drinkers were belting them down at the bar. The bartender wasn’t happy, and he was acting kind of mean. It had been drunk out last night and the night before. Today, it is hard to drink that off her mind. Some of these folks want to be her friend, and others want to punch her out. At the bar, a big guy says to another, “Do you want to take this outside and settle it?” The other guy said, “No, let’s start here, and we’ll work our way outside.” Entertainment is where you find it.
Waitress, give me one more double shot, and I’m gone.
Suicide, never mind, tomorrow has got to be a better day.
The shadows on the canyon walls keep changing shape. There is sorrow in her face. A gaggle of stars are twinkling overhead. Time changes everything—a fork in the road forces her to choose. It’s your only life, so try to make the right choice. The road of life gets tricky much of the time. Life changes things when you least expect it. Travel life at your own chosen speed. Life unfolds into tomorrow.
Journey through the red cliff mountains guided by the full moon’s light. The clip-clopping of her horse is a hypnotic delight. Storm clouds are forming. The storm will be here soon. Alone with her horse, she is enjoying the view.
