The impossible heap.
17 March, 2006. Tagged as Writing
The corner was the only place left for him. It was his doing. His ignorance built into a crushing snowball that was inching towards him, and the agony of his mistakes doubled for every second the axe had not come down. How could one problem become so many? At what time and under what circumstances do individual problems become a heap? And at what point could a series of mistakes build up to a life?