my TV show has a new head writer

I heard a murmur from somewhere in the wilds of my heart. It was like a radio signal from deep space.

At 45, I felt like a television show that had gone on for one too many seasons. My character arc was so bent it was about to snap like a plastic ruler. I was ready for my series finale.

Was I suicidal? I don’t know. But it was clear that my valuation of life was deep in the red.

Luckily, I was too much of a coward to take my own life, but I wasn’t opposed…