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@tynan
Crumbs.
I left the flat thinking this is it, I am never going back, not this time. My leather trousers had tightened with the years and my hair was no longer my own, but as I squeaked past the entrance mirror I caught the reflection of a man in his prime, a full man, a man who had lived life, atop his pie hole sat a startling moustache and within it danced the crumbs of life's meal, small bits of carrot, pastry flakes and some sauce.
Life had treated me well, I had eaten from it's trough with gusto and an open mouth, with teeth.
But it was time to move on.
The end.