Vaguely life leaks away
- W.H. Auden
"I'm sorry, dude," responded Marty. "I forgot. You look so healthy and strong."
"On the outside. Inside the walls are crumbling."
Marty was about to say something but changed his mind.
"Chill, man. I'm good with it. I mean there's not a freaking thing I can do about it. Better off than the rest of humanity though. You guys got to fret about what's ahead for you. No fretting about that for me. I know exactly what the future holds."
"Isn't there some kind of experimental drug or treatment you can get? Some clinical trial going on?"
"Been down that road already. Did more Googling and emailing about it than you could imagine. Call me Mr. Due Diligence. Nothing can stop those hungry little brain eaters from emptying out this cupboard," said Jason, tapping his temple.
"It's a Gloma-something tumor, you said."
"A Glioblastoma Multiforme, to be exact. It usually affects older people. Guess I'm just lucky."
"Some luck," mumbled Marty, shaking his head. "You're sure cool about this. I'd be a real mess."
"Hey, think about it. I've been liberated."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"What worries you about the future, Marty?"
"Like, will you lose your job? Will your wife cheat on you? Will your kid get run over? Will your parents move in with you? Will you get audited? Will your house catch fire? Will you get robbed?"
"Okay, I get the idea."
"Will an asteroid hit Earth? Will there be another terrorist attack? Will you be paralyzed? Will you get dementia?"
Marty looked at his watch and stood up. "Whoa, got to get back to work."
"Will you get cancer? Yeah, that's a good one to worry about. I don't have to worry about that one."
"Good point, Jason. Look, I'm..."
"How about erectile dysfunction? Now that's a concern to keep you up at night... no pun intended. Hey, maybe a shooter in your workplace? That one could happen anytime, right? Then there's a possible global pandemic and that cliff might break apart in the Azores causing a killer tsunami right here."
"Ah yes, there's that. Well, I'll see you soon, buddy," blurted Marty, turning and hurrying out of the restaurant.
That guy is one lucky bastard, he thought, climbing into his car.