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The Suicide: DREAM OF BILLIONAIRE SOLUTION Part 3
@Danis7568
#writcoshortstory #TheSuicideOfDespair #DreamOfBillionaireSolutionBook_3
#Writco
__________ Chapter THREE __________
NO ONE HAS THE POWER TO DESTROY YOUR LIFE BUT YOU
“1Corinthians 3v16-17: Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you? If anyone destroys God's temple, God will destroy him. For God's temple is holy, and you are that temple ESV2011”
Zozo’s bedroom was as dark as peccadillo, save for a thin shaft of sunrays that was squeezing its way into the dingy piece of real estate through a narrow crack created by the slight parting of the frail curtains.
The silent stream of light penetrated the darkened place like a ray of hope in grim and dire circumstances. The room, redolent of stale body vapours, was a complete jumble that mirrored the mess that now characterized its owner’s life.
The bedcovers stirred as Zozo stretched a number of stiff muscles in preparation to face another day. He rolled over to one end of the bed, and – oops – landed on the floor with a dull thud. This was not going to be a good day for him. The expression on his face told it all.
Surprised that he was still clad in yesterday’s clothes, include shoes, he slowly picked his limp body from the worn-out carpet, staggered to the bathroom and parked himself by the tiny sink.
With trembling hands, he fumbled in the darkness for the light switch. A weak light came on to reveal another neglected habitat. Zozo extended his hand towards the tumbler full of old toothbrushes, frayed by overuse and fighting for limited space amongst a collection of empty tubes of toothpaste. These had been squeezed flat.
One by one, he tried to extract some precious milliliters of paste from each, but none rewarded him with the tooth cleaning chemical.
This was a perfect metaphor of his life. A life squeezed out of all joy, desire and hope. Devoid of purpose, passion, nor peers, he was surrounded by people yet felt so alone. Like the bristle-less tooth brushes in his closet, here was a man trying to chop a fruit-laden branch off the Tree of Life using a blunt axe. Each frustrating swing less effective than the previous attempt!
That morning as Zozo gazed at his face in the mirror, he became aware that something was missing. But what was it? As his eyes rested on the identical pair reflected by the glazed surface, he suddenly realized what was amiss. The spark! That’s right; his eyes had lost their sparkle. Alas! He his blunt axe was gone!
Yes, his precious axe was gone – his last weapon in his fight against an unfair world. This was one thing that had kept him going all these years. This morning it was gone, taking with it his will to live.
The previous day’s encounter with the neighborhood kids at his doorstep had been the proverbial last feather that broke the scales. The urban soldier had lost his trusted weapon right in the thick of battle. Now with arms raised up high in an unequivocal sign of total surrender, he was handing over his soul to the devil.
“What’s the use?” he muttered to himself, heavy sighs punctuating his every sentence. “Life isn’t fair… you just can’t win … you try to do good, and this is what you get … I’m King Midas’ antonym … everything I touch turns into bitter salt … My life has been a long string of broken dreams, letdowns and limitation in progress … one brick wall after another… a lengthy and winding path littered with potholes, thorns and thistles, but leading nowhere...”
Hot, salty liquids were streaming down his cheeks as they gave up a brave fight against the pull of gravity.
“Just when things start to look up,” Zozo pensively continued his soliloquy, “something happens to push me back into the pit – again and again… Nobody cares about me … they just use me to further their own agendas. I have made many people rich, but what did I get in return? Nothing! Only Lazarus’ crumbs…”
He shifted his hazy gaze to the heavens above as his murmuring took on a religious tone, typical of people when they are in deep trouble. “Why? Why me, Lord… why…I pray to you and read the Bible daily…I’ve never missed a church service… I love you with all my heart… I even pray for others…yet, I continue to experience pain… Why, Lord, don’t you care?” But the Heavens remained shut – no reply!
A series of muted groans and deep sighs later, Zozo had finally come to a decision. “Why should I continue suffering like this? I have no reason to live any more. I’ll just end it all – today.”
As these ominous words spewed from Zozo’s quivering lips, he drove an angry fist into the mirror with great violence, instantly generating a crude web of cracks all over it. This was clearly a...
#writcoshortstory #TheSuicideOfDespair #DreamOfBillionaireSolutionBook_3
#Writco
__________ Chapter THREE __________
NO ONE HAS THE POWER TO DESTROY YOUR LIFE BUT YOU
“1Corinthians 3v16-17: Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you? If anyone destroys God's temple, God will destroy him. For God's temple is holy, and you are that temple ESV2011”
Zozo’s bedroom was as dark as peccadillo, save for a thin shaft of sunrays that was squeezing its way into the dingy piece of real estate through a narrow crack created by the slight parting of the frail curtains.
The silent stream of light penetrated the darkened place like a ray of hope in grim and dire circumstances. The room, redolent of stale body vapours, was a complete jumble that mirrored the mess that now characterized its owner’s life.
The bedcovers stirred as Zozo stretched a number of stiff muscles in preparation to face another day. He rolled over to one end of the bed, and – oops – landed on the floor with a dull thud. This was not going to be a good day for him. The expression on his face told it all.
Surprised that he was still clad in yesterday’s clothes, include shoes, he slowly picked his limp body from the worn-out carpet, staggered to the bathroom and parked himself by the tiny sink.
With trembling hands, he fumbled in the darkness for the light switch. A weak light came on to reveal another neglected habitat. Zozo extended his hand towards the tumbler full of old toothbrushes, frayed by overuse and fighting for limited space amongst a collection of empty tubes of toothpaste. These had been squeezed flat.
One by one, he tried to extract some precious milliliters of paste from each, but none rewarded him with the tooth cleaning chemical.
This was a perfect metaphor of his life. A life squeezed out of all joy, desire and hope. Devoid of purpose, passion, nor peers, he was surrounded by people yet felt so alone. Like the bristle-less tooth brushes in his closet, here was a man trying to chop a fruit-laden branch off the Tree of Life using a blunt axe. Each frustrating swing less effective than the previous attempt!
That morning as Zozo gazed at his face in the mirror, he became aware that something was missing. But what was it? As his eyes rested on the identical pair reflected by the glazed surface, he suddenly realized what was amiss. The spark! That’s right; his eyes had lost their sparkle. Alas! He his blunt axe was gone!
Yes, his precious axe was gone – his last weapon in his fight against an unfair world. This was one thing that had kept him going all these years. This morning it was gone, taking with it his will to live.
The previous day’s encounter with the neighborhood kids at his doorstep had been the proverbial last feather that broke the scales. The urban soldier had lost his trusted weapon right in the thick of battle. Now with arms raised up high in an unequivocal sign of total surrender, he was handing over his soul to the devil.
“What’s the use?” he muttered to himself, heavy sighs punctuating his every sentence. “Life isn’t fair… you just can’t win … you try to do good, and this is what you get … I’m King Midas’ antonym … everything I touch turns into bitter salt … My life has been a long string of broken dreams, letdowns and limitation in progress … one brick wall after another… a lengthy and winding path littered with potholes, thorns and thistles, but leading nowhere...”
Hot, salty liquids were streaming down his cheeks as they gave up a brave fight against the pull of gravity.
“Just when things start to look up,” Zozo pensively continued his soliloquy, “something happens to push me back into the pit – again and again… Nobody cares about me … they just use me to further their own agendas. I have made many people rich, but what did I get in return? Nothing! Only Lazarus’ crumbs…”
He shifted his hazy gaze to the heavens above as his murmuring took on a religious tone, typical of people when they are in deep trouble. “Why? Why me, Lord… why…I pray to you and read the Bible daily…I’ve never missed a church service… I love you with all my heart… I even pray for others…yet, I continue to experience pain… Why, Lord, don’t you care?” But the Heavens remained shut – no reply!
A series of muted groans and deep sighs later, Zozo had finally come to a decision. “Why should I continue suffering like this? I have no reason to live any more. I’ll just end it all – today.”
As these ominous words spewed from Zozo’s quivering lips, he drove an angry fist into the mirror with great violence, instantly generating a crude web of cracks all over it. This was clearly a...
