Dr. Erickson gulped down another mouthful of cold bitter tea as he sat at his desk, hovering over a single page. It contained the news every doctor in his field wished to receive, the type of news which lead to awards, praise and honor for his family. Yet, he had the paper in front of him, and now he wished for nothing more than to set the desk on fire. Burning just the paper to ash was not sufficient enough. The thought of setting the house on fire crossed his mind, but it would take far too long for the flames to reach the second floor where his study was located.
With glazed eyes, the Dr. looked around the room. He knew every book that lined the shelves on the far wall, every happy Kodak moment suspended behind frail glass and every secret this little room held. It was his prison and his sanctuary for the last twenty five years and it was all for the unspectacular piece of paper lying before him. The letter read…
Dear Dr. Erickson,
On behalf of the company, I would like to thank you for your unwavering dedication and loyalty, both during prosperous and rough times. The sacrifices you have made have not gone unnoticed, and you will be compensated for all that you have lost. However it is my pleasure to notify you of the successful completion of your contract and award you a Certificate of Excellence which will be mailed to you shortly. It has been a pleasure working with you, and the company wishes you the best in your future endeavors.
-Please note that the fulfillment of the contract does not void the confidential nature of the assignment. Any hint of a breach in the contract, during or after the initiation date will result in punishment to the fullest extent of the law.-
Sincerely,
Leon Converse
CEO and Project Director
The Dr. placed his elbows on the desk and rested his forehead in the palms of his hands, his nails digging into his scalp and unkept hair. Tears began flowing down his cheeks and through the short whiskers of his beard. He reached out with his right hand and knocked the black tea cup to the ground by accident. The noise of the shattering glass didn’t faze the doctor for a single moment. His hand continued for the silver object lying in the top corner of his desk. He gripped the revolver firmly and pulled it close to his chest, the muzzle pointing at the ceiling. He took one final breath and placed the cold silver tip under his chin, pressing deep into the soft flesh.
The doctor gazed up, looking at the only picture on his desk and whispered, “It is all my fault.” then pulled the trigger. A hallow thud reverberated throughout the study, shattering the silence. Without hesitating, he pulled the trigger again, and again, till finally the hammer fell onto a live round.
Mile 29 