Responsibility

He felt the pressure and strain of the day on the bridge of his nose. On that point slightly below the eyes. Rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger did little to relieve the stress he felt. I want some tea he thought. They had been driving around, bouncing inefficiently from place to place. His companion smiled, doing business on his own schedule, in his own way.

But the driving had some calming properties. He had time to think between phone calls. He wasn't driving. He used the time to look out the window, while his companion was distracted by Michael Jackson songs.

I don't want this responsibility. I want this responsibility. But now he was in too deep to walk away. Something about these commitments made him feel ill at ease. Like he was no longer free to walk out when he felt like it. But maybe that was the point; maybe it was time to learn; time to commit.

I'm starting with the Man in the mirror...