Grief

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. And what loud, yelling, cursing and profane words came from this picture?
He had not yet reached fifty, there was still brown in his hair. But much of that hair had been planted a dark, rich red. There was no note, no justification, no explanation. There was only a hole near the side of his head and more questions that would never be answered.

What is a mean boss? Troubles at home? An addiction of sorts? What had taken possession to cause this? And those left behind would always wonder, why didn’t he fight for us? And so passed, this broken man….with only 140 pounds of meat and a hole where once a loving person resided.