Time was sliced in half, she had two months—
Two months too little, he thinks.
He paces by the window listening to the rain. The silent patters
Attempt to soothe his nerves.
Tears of guilt,
Tears of meaningless business trips,
Tears of Love, Fear, Loss, Regret
Stream down his face.
He realizes now that the money strangled His vision,
Blinding the recognition of her sickness.
Oncoming decisions strike him like a psychopathic murderer.
Slaughter all the work he has accomplished in order to make sure
His wife knows he loves her
Or
Continue to thrive with his business, leaving his wife to suffer alone
He pictures her beautiful smile, hears her careless laugh
Knows her weak, pale body is now connected to tubes and machines
Determined, he grabs the box filled with his belongings
Turning off the light to his now empty office.
He leaves the building executing the negative to spend what remains of the positive.
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