He is your boozing uncle. He is your unfulfilled dreams. He is your deepest regret and greatest sorrow; your lazy, stoner brother who sleeps with shades drawn and eye mask down. He is the darkness at the end of the tunnel that approaches with alarming force. He is the boot on your throat, pressing firmly and constantly. He is the life you wanted, the life you didn’t live. He is death.
Jack sees the color and beauty that is life and paints it black. His shopping cart is full of black spray paint that is readily applied on the slightest whim or deepest fancy. Paint brushes and endless cans would be more effective but Jack has no time. Spraying as he moves, the shadow ever grows and the world is slowly swallowed. Try as you might, the grip gets tighter as you fade to black.
One spring morning, Jack emerges from hibernation and crawls back into existence. He is hungry and full of energy and you are a full course meal. Spinning above the flames, the world burns with such intensity that for a moment Jack appears gone yet again. But he isn’t. From his perch above, the gargoyle watches with quiet anticipation until, finally, the shrieking demon is upon you, grabbing you, tearing you apart. Blinded in a sea of darkness, you can’t see.
Years turn into decades before Jack demands a face-off. There can be but one survivor and you are weakened from years of struggle. Instantly upon you, uses your hesitation to quickly gain the upper hand. After what feels like hours later, Jack begins the descent with you in tow. Tarred and desperate, your fingers burn as you grasp for anything. Out of the darkness, you uncover the dimmest of lights. Awake for the first time in your deepest despair, you scratch and claw. You are suddenly enlightened.
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