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The man was broken, a ruin of what he once was. Who would have thought he was once a shining light in business, a role model and man of substance? As CEO of a company that employed hundreds of workers, he was on the cusp of decision making and economic progress.
But one poor decision brought him down.
The fall was ruinous, he was cast out and derided by society, stripped of all power and disappeared into the wilderness of failure.
Today he sits in the park his belongings scattered at his feet. He wears what is left of his last suit.
The shoulders are torn, the tattered edges of his cuff’s testament to his continual struggle to battle against the elements of his downfall.
His clothes hang on him out of kindness than necessity. He is unshaven, dirty and his shoes have seen better days.
There’s not much to say when you see him apart from the sense of staying well away as if you too might be corrupted from standing too close.
He recognises no one, for to do so generates pain and triggers the anxieties of the past. He feels he has to pay for his past indiscretions so his withdrawal from society is to a large part of his own making.
He did have family but the shame of his downfall and the embarrassment to them has resulted in them moving away and living a life in denial of the father he once was.
He shuffles a bit on the ground, finding a softer spot to sit on, his old cup stained with tea bags past sits at his side and in a series of grubby plastic bags are the clothes he must wear tomorrow for one thing he has hung onto is the desire to appear as neat as his circumstance will allow.
It’s not easy, his nights are long, sleeplessness is a fact of life, as he keeps a watchful eye out for predators ever ready to attack and steal from him.
He is stuck now, the ruination of his life complete, he awaits death, his only salvation.