The odds were stacked against him.
Some days are just stacked so high, there’s no fighting it. Subconscious and unconscious cues and influences invade and infect your psyche and you are turned into a werewolf, a zombie.
Blame externals all you want but the singularity persists that it is YOU, through and through.
Coincidental mentions of almost identical thoughts and current situations by streaming radio DJs, observations of others with no contact…and simply the *feel* of dread envelopes an ego… it’s too much to dismiss.
An inevitable Epic Battle begins and it is simply too much for this warrior to fend off. He is already weary from the day’s gravity. He succumbs to the most intimate, in his own domain no less. Shameful. He dies, walking bloody into the creek.
But he’s safe, he brought his EDC and is ready for whatever comes next. Or at least that’s what may help bring hope, if nothing more than a physical representation of the will to go on.