Timothy watched Charles prepare to leave with a certain amount of regret. He was a friend and like most of his friends- life had changed him. Once rich and generous, bitterness had taken ahold of Charles and aged him more in a year than smoking and drinking had aged his other friends in five. He was like an old man now, his shoulders hung low, as if his arms were too heavy to keep up, the spring in his step had vanished leaving only a trudging shuffle that could always be heard before it was seen. He laid his current status at the feet of a string of women who had taken advantage of him. It wasn’t entirely true of course, nor was it entirely false. There were women, but it was one woman who had taken him from the heights of prosperity and left him penniless and bereft of spirit. At this point, Charles existed on other’s goodwill and charity both of which Timothy knew were on the verge of running out.

“You don’t have to go yet.” Timothy regretted the words as soon as they’d left his mouth but it was too late.