Why are you tired? You don’t do anything, he said. Sit around. Lie around. Never moving. No movement. A constant state of rest, the old man told him. Examine the possibilities. Look around you. What do you surround yourself with? Bare walls. A chair. Twin mattress. Paper plates. Is this what you want? the young man just looked at the floor. You’re not going to find anything down there, he said. Look at me. Look, the old man cupped the kid’s chin with his right hand. You see this? All these wrinkles? They’re well deserved. I’ve seen good times, and I’ve seen bad, he said. But I always looked forward. Always.

I’m tired, the boy said. I’m always tired. I’ve had enough. I want to end it. Be done with it. Move on to the next life.

There is no next life. This is it. All you get.

Bones just rot in a box? Soul goes nowhere? That’s not what they told us in Sunday school, he laughed.

I don’t know what’s true and not true. I just know you have to make the most of this life. Otherwise, you wind up dead way too soon. Life will kill you. If you let it.