Peril

ABE

Happiness.

Where had that word come from?

On the walk back to the bar, he realized that he’d not thought of happiness in years, that happiness was like childhood, a place he could not return to or recapture in the present. A dark wonder settled over him as he recognized that he couldn’t actually remember the last time he was happy, though he suspected it had been the years during which he’d tried to make it, have his own group, cut records, tour, be known. He’d stopped trying for any of that years before, and the truth of why he’d stopped had tapped lightly at the door of his consciousness ever since, though he’d rarely let it in. Now he did. It was laziness, pure and simple. Even if he’d actually had talent, making a name for himself would still have required more energy than he’d ever had.

For a moment he considered his talents. They were few and modest. The greatest one, he decided, was just the talent for going on.