Lost in Time

by A.G. Riddle

Anger wasn’t the only thing he felt. Helpless. That was the other feeling. Between the two, Sam preferred rage. That was something he could use.

That was the way of the world, he thought: you give it your all; sometimes it’s enough, sometimes it’s not, and sometimes, the tide carries you in.

Mountains loomed in the distance, the sun shining behind them, casting the peaks in dark shadows like sharp, rotten teeth, the mouth of a world about to take a bite out of the sky.

There was no single meaning of life—there was only the meaning of your life.

“Maybe you traded an unhealthy obsession for a healthy one. I think that’s how it goes sometimes.”