Scanlines

by Todd Keisling

We—I—grew up in a time when none of that mattered because tomorrow was a million years away. Even now, as my peers are back home living with their parents, unable to afford what society promised them twenty years ago, we’re all still living day to day. Living in the moment. We have no time for superstition because, hey, I need to meet my hourly quota for the day, week, month so I can pay my bills and continue surviving.

Benjamin Hardy is less a ghost than he is the force of depression. He’s the grim face you see projected on everyone else, that same face you see in the mirror every day, the one that tells you there’s no point, you aren’t worth it, you don’t deserve it, and why not end it already? He’s the liar in your head, and you’re the suit he wears.