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Tempus Fugit

“A new decade, 2010… my fresh, clean start”, Alex said aloud while staring at his roughened image in the mirror. The effects of a late night, too much booze, broken dreams and yet another lousy New Years Eve party had obviously taken their toll.

2010, an arbitrary point it time with no true meaning or significance, so how ironic she had chosen last night to unceremoniously dump him just before midnight… yet fitting, no? A new year, a clean break and she was in the past. She was the past.

He dropped his head against the mirror, closed his eyes, “idiot!”, he sighed. Last ditch effort, the last chance, she was it, the one, the last possible chance at romance. He’d blown it and she was never coming back.

He knew this, knew the end result before it even started, but it was gonna be different this time… yeah right! Warm tears, epic failure.

Through everything, somehow, it did feel like a fresh start… there was something new and clean in the reaffirmation he was meant to be forever alone.

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