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The End Game

Is it coincidence that most cultures have eschatological beliefs formatted into their religion and mythology? The prophet Daniel received a glimpse of the last days, and the scriptural account in Daniel chapter 7 records that he was so troubled he could not speak for some time after the epiphanies he witnessed.

Besides the march of world powers, the atrocity of genocide, the hate spilled from one man to another, what might he have seen? Perhaps he witnessed the culling of law and order officials by terrorist cartel groups? Or the latest American presidential propaganda speech, replete with lies and scornful spew? Or might it have been a montage of humanity’s day-to-day struggles that choked his rational mind?

Here is an example of something he may have seen, manifested in a thousand alternate but similar versions. Bogged down in a plethora of such muck, is there any wonder this prophet was left speechless?

Tara grew up with a disabled brother, and a disabled father. She went to school, where she was bullied, and barely graduated. After graduation, Tara Humane worked at a dead-end job, and finally married to escape the humdrum repetition and boredom of her life, but she married someone her parents could not accept. When they finally welcomed him into their group, the couple divorced. A year later, she remarried the same man, but when the afterglow of her honeymoon and newlywed experience died, she divorced again.

Then she rushed to marry someone else, choosing him to father her offspring. Caught in the complexities and difficulties of life, she stopped talking to her mom and dad, and forbade them to associate with her children.

Years later she called her parents to recount the drama of divorce and ask them to take her and the children in. Tara waited till after a surgery to tell her spouse about the their divorce so she’d be covered by his insurance.

A mere week after speaking to her mom and dad for the first time in many years, Tara Humane’s parents received a visit from police. They told her parents that she was no longer of this world, and it was likely a suicide.


When I spoke with my wife last night, she mentioned how tired she’d become. Her comment was: “I can’t do this anymore.” I tried to console her, “Don’t give up. Hang in there.” I espoused the usual cliché rigmarole and pop psychology. What else could I do?

But I didn’t tell her how miserable I felt, waking up tired, not wanting to go to work, being tired when I get home, going to bed tired. In my morass and misery, I get insulted and bullied– while having to be everyone’s errand boy. My mom is sick, so I try to help her too. But I am sick and tired of trying to find value in my life. It seems there is and never will be any. Other than spending money to pack the apartment full of things that make my wife happy, there is no joy in my existence.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my wife and feel sorry for her, but our life is in the pits. No matter that I can’t imagine her inner conflict and torment. She had a rough and neglected childhood. Her mom fed her peanut butter soup because her dad blew their money on drugs. Several times during her childhood their apartment burned down, destroying everything they owned.

Every now and then my wife takes notice of how lousy I look, in the same manner that I sympathize with her. Sometimes she suggests counseling, other times a plate of humus with wholegrain crackers.

I look to my best friend on earth, the only one who understands me, Megatron, our cat. The other day he told me, “Meow meowy meowy meowww.” I typed this into Google Translate and it messaged: “Please don’t give up. Hang in there, Baby.”

The End


Nick Romeo is a multidisciplinary artist, musician and writer. His writings have been published in various literary magazines. He was interviewed for Pankhearst’s Fresh Featured of December 2015 and The Dailey Poet Site of February 2016. Nick lives in Pittsburgh Pennsylvania with his wife and cat, Megatron.



You Can Find Nick Romeo at:



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Published inReflections

One Comment

  1. Mandy Robinson Mandy Robinson

    This is a really sad and honest story. Makes you think about how somehow you don’t know what others are going through.

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