[ WP ] An immortal being is explaining why he would like to die

“ You ’ re not understanding me. ” 
 
 Cael readjusts himself on the stool, the chipped wood nearly puncturing his jeans. The bottles stacked in front of him rattle as he tipsily bumps his knee on the bar. 
 
 “ I ’ m not just telling you I saw it on TV. The documentaries, the History Channel specials, they ’ re all good entertainment. ” He lifts the shot glass in his hand and downs the dark liquid. Through a small cough and painful smile, “ You don ’ t know shit. ” 
 
 “ Just leave him alone. ” 
 
 The bartender reaches for the empty bottles. “ All this guy likes to do is stir up trouble. ” He grabs the shot glass from Cael ’ s hand and walks towards the bar sink. “ I ’ d kick him out if he wasn ’ t my main source of income. ” 
 
 “ You couldn ’ t kick me out of here if you tried, Marty. I ’ ve already told you, I studied martial arts with Barton-Wright himself. ” 
 
 Marty looks back and chuckles through his thick moustache. “ Impressive. I learned how to make an Old Fashioned from the late great Tits McGee. ” 
 
 “ Fuck you, Marty. ” 
 
 I sip at my water for a few minutes, muted TV ’ s providing more light than the dirty light bulbs. The silence was deafening as I pretended to check a message on my phone. I had so many questions for him, but didn ’ t want to spark an already agitated drunk man. 
 
 Cael leaned his head back and closed his eyes, engulfing himself in the still moment. 
 
 “ Some might see what I have as a gift. ” 
 
 I reach to his lure, knowing he ’ s looking to reel me back in. “ Sounds like a life without dying is a pretty good deal. ” I mumbled through the sentence with a whiskey-tinged mouth. I might as well keep him going. Don ’ t think I can drive yet. 
 
 “ It ’ s a fucking nightmare. ” He opens his eyes, staring blankly at ceiling fan. 
 
 A short hissing sound followed by a small metal clank breaks his gaze as Marty drops another beer into Cael ’ s reach. “ Last one, then you ’ re out of here. ” He nods and lifts it to his face as if the cool bottle were a vice for his personal hell. 
 
 “ You married? ” Cael exclaimed, as if to punctuate the previous topic. 
 I look down at the pale skin of my finger where my ring used to be. “ Been twice, but neither took. ” 
 
 “ Any kids? ” 
 
 “ A daughter. Addison. Turns five this month. You? ” 
 
 Cael ’ s gaze falls to the scar on the back of the hand holding his beer. “ Yeah. ” 
 
 We sat again in silence, only hearing Marty ’ s rag squeak as he dried off glasses by the sink. I took his short answer as a sign to stop asking. 
 
 I tried to lighten the mood once again. “ So, you must be a rich guy. That bar tab won ’ t be cheap. ” 
 
 He looked right at me, back and forth between my eyes trying to keep focus. “ Money isn ’ t important. ” Cael finally said. “ Money has a limit. It has value. I can run out. ” 
 
 “ Isn ’ t that a bad thing? ” I questioned. “ Some people spend their whole lives filling their pockets. ” 
 
 “ If something has an end, you appreciate it. You dread the day it ’ s no longer there. You ’ re left wanting more. ” He lifts his beer for another swig. “ When there ’ s limitless ocean, you dream of dry land. ” 
 
 I didn ’ t understand him, but nodded and looked back to my water. 
 
 “ Alright boys, I ’ ve tried to stay as long as I could, ” Marty lifts his hands. “ I ’ m out of things to clean. ” 
 
 
 I stumble out to my car as Marty locks the door behind us. Focusing on every little detail in order to sober up, I notice Cael walking down the gravel driveway to the road. 
 
 “ No car? ” I shout. 
 
 Without even turning, Cael lifts his half full bottle. “ Never like riding in those damn things. ” 
 
 “ You sure? This is the only place for a few miles. It ’ d take you forever to get to town.'' 
 
 Cael stops and looks back. He smiles, drinks the rest of his beer, and throws it into the woods. 
 
 “ I ’ ve got all the time in the world. ” 

