Anger

My eyes flashed with anger, darting around the room like a wretched soul seeking revenge. How could they have no respect for another living person? Why did anyone care about what was new or trendy? Couldn’t they politely be themselves?

An assembly of sinners. What a delightful sight. Do none of them realize that whatever they obsess over never matters in a situation of any life changing event? When you’re dying, you don’t care about how many levels of a video game you’ve beaten or how many followers you have. Will you joke about sex or rape with a killer at your throat? Will a virus not infect you if you’ve completed 70 levels, or destroyed the boss? Can your looks save you from a volcano or earthquake? Nothing matters but what’s inside your heart and the values you’ve gathered.

If you died right now, how many things would you regret?