57

Stumbling past the caged men, Benny worked his way to the end of his broken path. Only mildly did he remember the real world, more a passing hangover than an actual experience.

Regretfully, his body had lived and would soon die in a world he never really felt a part of. What he would not give for one more liver and onions. One more smile from the girl with the golden hair. How he missed those days.

But he didn't feel too bad. He had made it big. Through the storm that was his mind, he had remembered that. Seeing him self on the big screen. He had made an impression. He had left his mark. And to him, that was enough.