A luxury car in a mortgaged driveway.
A sleeping family down the hall, up the stairs.
A shark’s head mounted on the den wall.
A fat ass in the leather desk chair.
A sandwich and a beer on the desk.
A porno on the computer screen.
A shift in his eyes.
A wriggle in the seat.
A possibility?
A way out?
A moment before the flickering scene passes.
A forearm wiped slowly across his damp mouth.
A second click.
A replay.
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Dark Matter 
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