- Permanent Link:
- Series Title:
- CRW 406
- Brendan Peek
- SUNY Oswego Creative Writing Program
- Publication Date:
- Physical Description:
- Flash Fiction
- Subjects / Keywords:
- A man broken by loss and beaten by the world plays a daily game of chance with his life, unable to commit to ending it himself.
- Collected for SUNY Oswego Institutional Repository by the online self-submittal tool. Submitted by Brendan Peek.
- General Note:
- I love to write. I wouldn't say that I was always meant to be a writer, or that it even occurred to me to become one. If someone were to ask me what I do, "I'm a writer" wouldn't even make the top five responses. It's not that I don't consider myself one, but I wouldn't jump to it as a label quite yet. Right now, writing is a passion. It's an area of focus and aspiration that has allowed me to get some of my work out there and hear what people think. I write because I love people's reactions to my work, whether they hate it, love it, or somewhere in between. It's knowing that somewhere someone might have read something that I created, and even though they may never get to tell me what they thought, they invested their time and attention in it, in me. And I think that's pretty awesome.
- Source Institution:
- SUNY Oswego Institutional Repository
- Rights Management:
- All applicable rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
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By Brendan Peek English/Creative Writing Major, Class of 2017 #Click, #Roulette, #Suicide, #Russian Roulette Click. I eat breakfast slowly and mechanically, my mind and body tethered by the physical. My spoon scrapes the bottom of the bowl a few times before I register its emptiness At work, t he arrow on the screen moves and clicks, a surrogate of my own hand, accomplishing things I never could, touching things that are otherwise untouchable The work day ends. I gather my things and turn off my computer M y reflection in the screen stares bac k at me. Home again. I lie in bed, staring at the tan line of my ring finger. I reach over to my nightstand. I put the cold steel of the barrel in my mouth, and close my eyes. Click.