Storlets

Micro Stories, Flash Thoughts, Short Poetry

leave a comment »

He liked to work. He loved to work. Prided himself on being a workaholic. Relaxation is for bums, he said. Work is life and work is God, he said. Work is its own reward, he said. On his deathbed, life flashed before him. Tried to find happy moments, there were none. Tried to find sad ones, there were none. No friends came by for there were none. What have I done with my life, he thought. And then he began to cry.

Advertisements

Written by Kalpesh Muchhal

March 4, 2010 at 6:00 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: