I'm Thinking of Ending Things

~ ~ ~

— The body was found in the closet.

— Really?

— Yeah. A small closet. Big enough to hang shirts and jackets, some boots, not much else. The body was all scrunched up in there. The door was closed.

— It makes me sad. And angry.

— Why not reach out to someone, right? Talk to someone. He had coworkers. It wasn’t like he was working in a place without other people. There were people around all the time.

— I know. It didn’t have to happen this way.

— Of course not.

— Do we know much about his background?

— Not a lot. He was smart, well-read. He knew things. He’d had an earlier career, some sort of academic work, PhD level, I think. That didn’t last, and he ended up here.

— He wasn’t married?

— No, he wasn’t married. No wife. No kids. No one. It’s rare these days to see someone living like that, entirely alone.