His friend pleaded through tears.
He spoke of how hard he had worked.
How much of it had been for him.
And yet, he said, none of it had been understood.
It was cruel.
It was cold.
He tried to listen with empathy.
But another current of thought moved quietly beneath it.
If the effort did not lead anywhere,
was it really effort?
Still, he said nothing.
He simply listened.
He knew this was the end.
It was sad.
They had known each other since boyhood.
The thought of building a company together once felt more exciting than frightening.
But friendship rarely solves business problems.
No miracle appeared for them.
Perhaps the work destroyed the friendship.
Perhaps it only revealed the cracks that were already there.
It no longer mattered.
In time, his friend exercised his rightful claim
and withdrew the company’s funds.
For him, it was fatal.
Everything dissolved.
Years later, he would look back and say,
“…It really wasn’t that serious.
The endoscopy I had today felt far closer to death.”
There was still discomfort in his throat when he said it.
But it was honest.
Perhaps this pain, too,
will be released from the illusion of weight
by this afternoon.