lastchancelimited

Stanley Johnson held the pencil firmly in his hand as he hunched over his writing desk. He had been putting this off for so long, but today was the day he had convinced himself of going through with it. The door to the study was locked, no one was home, and his mind was made up. He was a man in his early forties. He was nothing special by any means, but he was a good person. He was a caring husband and a loyal friend. He had a decent job that would never make him rich but also never left him wanting. All things considered; his life was what you would label as “good.” But he was also an incomplete man. His career in writing had never taken off like he’d hoped it would, and he found himself almost entirely without a path of his own. He was married to someone he loved dearly but didn’t feel that elusive spark for anymore. He had yet to tell even his closest friends that they had recently separated after she had grown tired of his attitude change. His job was unexciting and he often

“You got this...” She repeated that to herself every so often, but never could truly convince herself of it. She was a girl with a broken heart and a vivid imagination. There were all of these irrational thoughts that swirled around inside of her head and drowned out the ones were logical. This was all about love. Where the hell did logic fit into love’s puzzle? Still, she tried. She missed him, though. She had just seen him a few hours earlier, but those old feelings were already starting to stir up inside of her again. She couldn’t deny that every thought she had revolved around him. She tried to force herself to think of other things but it was pointless. She played video games but felt no joy. She read but couldn’t seem to concentrate on the words. She went through a hundred pages and couldn’t remember a single sentence. “You got this,” she said to herself with a soft slap across her own face. The last time she saw him didn’t quite go as planned. It wasn’t the beautiful

He had been beating himself up for days, if not weeks. He was so desperate to reach out to the one he loved, although he knew nothing good could come from it. It was over, and he was just having a hard time accepting that. He told himself that life wasn’t fair. He knew that sometimes things just didn’t work out the way we want them to. He tried to be strong, but the entire situation just felt so unfair and surreal. He had kept away from her ever since he exited her life, but every day the feeling of loneliness and desire for his beloved ate away at what was left of his soul. He loved her. He loved her more than he had ever loved anything or anyone in his life. He didn’t think this kind of love was even possible. He had cared for other women before. He had even loved a time or two before her. But she was different. She was special in a way that he couldn’t properly describe when his friends and family would ask him. He was absolutely consumed by his intense love for this woman that

1872. The Nevada sun was a vicious bastard mid day. It hung over an unlikely pair like a vulture waiting for a sick animal to keel over and become lunch. It was hot and humid, the kind of weather that would choke you to death without remorse.  It was fitting. Remorse was not a luxury that was afforded to the two men who found themselves baking under the sun. They had been pushing themselves since the break of dawn working on a project that was handed to them without much negotiation. Normally, these two strangers would have never crossed paths. But this effort had brought them together under that unforgiving ball of fire.  Today, they were grave diggers.  The first man, thin and handsome, was dressed in a fine white long sleeve shirt and dress pants. He looked like a man of affluence, which begged the question of how the hell he ended up toiling away in this hole. The second man, younger and more stout, looked like a commoner picked right off a stool at a local tavern. He

Ashley was a peculiar girl. She was conventionally pretty, with big doe eyes and a shapely form that most men would find irresistible. She had a shyness that was incredibly endearing, if not a bit frustrating for potential men that had been lucky enough to cross paths with her. She was the kind of girl you would think of as the girl next door, or you could even see her starring in a new romantic comedy on television. She was sweet, polite, and she was in love. However, her love would be labelled tragic in the eyes of those who knew her best. The man she loved wasn’t married. He wasn’t cruel and he would never take her for granted. He was perfect in every way. He was handsome, loving, said all the right things, and he would fight until the end of time for the woman he loved. He was the kind of man that girls dream of marrying and every man should aspire to be. There was just one problem with this amazing prince – he didn’t exist. He was a character from her favorite movie, and would