Empty

Empty The gas tank is empty. I have five more miles to go. The car glides to a stop, beside the road. I get out. I push it further on, into the dirt and brush. There is a hush, deep in my soul. "How can things be worse?" I grab my keys, my purse, my things. I lock the doors and leave a note out on the shield. "I will be back, it is a fact, please do not take away my only ride... as the ocean of life has risen, I am near-drowning now." I turn toward the empty road, and know that I must hurry. There is dinner to prepare, and my family is already home. They are alone, and they should not be, but I can not try harder than I already do... lest I fail completely. Perfection, a goal, a commitment, but not attainable or realistic.