Roast Beef

The roast beef tasted like cold death on a severed tongue.  It was hard to swallow because he didn’t want to have to actually chew and taste it.  The cold lump made its way slowly down his throat followed by regret reflected in night windows.  Out there somewhere there were the stars in the firmament but it didn’t seem to matter anymore.  He was lost in the thoughts of some otherworldly fog dancing illusions through his head as real as anything else surrounding him but more important than attempts of his life.  The absurdity he faced was as difficult to swallow as the roast beef so he inhaled deeply and let go of it all on the out breath since in the end, nothing really mattered at all.