Cloudy Sunday

A Java chip frap to perk him up as he went through the weekend business papers. But his mind is still aflutter with uncertainty. Plagued by the unknown more than usual on a cloudy, windy Sunday afternoon.

The calm exterior is still there. Years of practice pretending nothing in the world excites him or fazes him. But turmoil looms and closer it draws him into a spiral of thoughts. Thoughts are the bane of the soul for it pollutes the essence of quick, instinctive reactions. It dulls the courage within.

But a deadly weapon it is when thought converges with the heart and soul. In unison, they act to preserve what is dearest, most important.

As the sun sets today, he holds destiny in his hands. Will he let go of it again?