JACK

He comes home late after work, only a grain of sand on the beach of life. A simple man who goes about his existence under the guise of contentment, working hard to fill a void he knows exists but refuses to acknowledge.

A *** of coffee is brewed, whose fate is to become cold on the counter. He picks up the morning paper, uninterested in its contents.

The only words he can read are his own, written on the pages by the thoughts of a world he should have had.

He sits alone in his empty apartment, staring out into the darkness.

He knows she remains somewhere in the abyss.

Just as light shines from the dying stars above, he hoped his love could shine to a dying heart. Frustration overwhelms, knowing he has sealed his own past.

But still, it is nights like these Jack longs for the chance to go back in time. Not to make wrongs right, but to ensure there would be no wrongs that needed righting.

It is nights like these where Jack lies alone in his bed.

It is nights like these that Jack longs for a second chance.