13.1.12

Entry 1417

He stares at the screen trying to observe any change that might indicate positive movement for Operation Enduring Digitarti, the red phone-- the hot line-- but inches from his fingertips, and he thinks, I could pick up that phone and all would be over in just a matter of minutes. One big bang and everything would be gone, no more than ashes and dust. I could end it all today, right now and everyone would read my name in the mushroom clouds as they rise into the skies turning day into night.

"Or, I could try and write another story," he mumbled, "but what would be the plot?"