The Prodigal Banker

I couldn’t keep my thoughts straight. I told myself it was the alcohol. It was’t actually safe for me to be driving. What was I doing anyway? My home wasn’t any less lonely than the hotel. Something was wrong with me¬†tonight. Why was I even driving through this neighborhood? I knew it would only bring me pain.

I took a left. “Why?” I asked. “Why am I doing this to myself? I have a new life now, a successful life.” Still I kept coming nearer. (more…)