The Ambitions of His Age

by solaris2001

The old man sat alone in a rusting wheelchair on the concrete slab that passed for a terrace behind the nursing home that reeked of urine and feces and disinfectant and regret and death and watched a rat crawl out from between the overflowing dumpsters near the alley and into a drain running along the bottom of a crumbling brick wall. He hadn’t heard his given name spoken in months since the last of his acquaintances left for the hospital and died of sepsis, and in a moment of savage epiphany he envied that rat and that acquaintance their fates.