Stewart Mertins now gazed down at his beer, motionless like a statue. The world around him continued to move while he remained unchanged. It had only been three minutes since he added the contents of the small bottle in his pocket into the concoction, but he just could not bring himself to drink. His body felt as though it was trying to stop itself from what was to come next. Perhaps he still had a small will to keep on living, but whatever it was, he knew not of its nature.

The night had grown old, and the bar was nearly empty. Not one soul was around except for the bartender, cleaning up for the evening, an unconscious drunkard in the corner, and a man dressed in a black suit, looking down at his pocket watch. Not many present to witness the event about to occur, but it wasn't like Stew really cared about that. He just stared at his end, contemplating if it was now time.

"Quite a night isn't it?" The man looking at his watch seemed to be asking him something. Stewart barely got out an answer.

"I-I suppose...it is certainly getting to be one..." His eyes remained fixed on the glass in front of him.

"It isn't often I get to sit and relax. Even rarer, a time I can get a drink. You seem to have had plenty. Forgive me, I believe I've seen you look at this single beer for about an hour now. Either you came to this bar already intoxicated, or you've got a lot on your mind."

"What's it to you?" Stewart didn't feel like speaking right now. He honestly wasn't feeling like conversing at the moment.

"Nothing at all. I'm just a man who would give you a penny for your thoughts. If you like some form of reason, why don't you say I spend all my time working with people...listening to their inner feelings, and helping them find their way..."

"You a psychiatrist or something? No thanks, I've already spoken to too many of you people. It never helps."

"I'm no shrink, just someone who has the time to listen to a man's troubles. Just say as you want and I'll pay attention..."

Who was this man? His well-dressed nature looked like that of a business man, but from what he has been saying, he isn't one. He still hasn't looked up from his watch, and yet he simply keeps talking to him. Every word just makes Stewart confused and messes with his emotional state. This man was making Stewart angry.

"Look buddy, just leave. You're really starting to piss me off. Just take your watch, and your briefcase and move to a booth or something."

"Can't bring yourself to drink can you...?" The man asked, ignoring Stewart's aggressive tone. His words felt like a punch to the gut, as if this man knew what Mertins was about to do. "Usually one drinks to forget one's worries, but it would seem your troubles prevent you from drinking. What's perplexing your mind? What drives a man to stare at his drink for an hour and not take a sip?"

"I rather not speak about it...It's a long story." While still a bit annoyed from this stranger's attitude, his words seemed to weaken the man's resolve.

"Well, as I said, time is something I seem to be plentiful in currently. Please, say as you'd like. I'll try not to interrupt."

Taking in a breath, Mertins began to speak. He didn't want to, at least not fully, but this person next to him just had some kind of power over him. Maybe it was his odd demeanor or the way he spoke, but it just rubbed off on Stewart in a peculiar way. Inquisitive, yet with some caring behind it, regardless, it made him want to speak his mind.

"Right now, I guess you could say times are tough. The world is unchanging. Everything happening has always been happening, and everything that is happening is excluded from myself. There is a separation between me and everyone else...a void. Sometimes I feel like I shouldn't be in this place, on this world.

Things have never really worked out for me. Right now my life has come to a stand still. I work a mindless job for 8 hours a day, and for what? A wage which only allows me to live for a few more days. No luxuries, no commodities, just barely enough to get me by. It works, but now I might lose everything."

"Why?" The stranger asked. He seemed to want to know, but the way he asked just seemed off.

"It's simple. Machines. They can do the job without pay and at a faster rate. I never really liked my job, but I need it...

I would admit, I probably haven't made much of a contribution to this planet, but it seems that life has got a grudge against me...Life can be harsh when I truly try and do something. I'm not an educated man, nor am I very talented, but sometimes I put effort into what I do. How am I repaid? Misfortune, Minor inconveniences, and the cruelty that is mankind. To the world, I am nothing more than a doormat it refuses to wipe its wet shoes off on.

Such a fate doesn't help a person like myself. I used to have some ambition. I used to have desires. Everytime I try to chase those passions, reality sends me a reminder, in its usual cold, heartless fashion. Sometimes I just feel like I could just....!"

"...End it all?" The stranger's tone was a bit empty, lacking the emotion he shown before in his voice. It sent a chill down Stewart's spine. It was as if he knew more of the truth than himself. With a slight cough, however, the stranger's previous behavior shortly returned.

"I've heard many speak like you, sir. While I'm not saying your troubles are not unique, other people I've conversed with seem to have similar worries. I've heard different words, but the meanings behind them all the same..."

Stewart's body sunk down in his seat. He had heard this all many times before, but the way this man spoke had a certain heaviness, a slight certainty. This man before him spoke as if he had said this a million times, but it felt like it only spoke to Mertins individually. The words drew him in, while his mind and body tried their best to repel his silver tongue.

"Ending it all often sounds like an interesting way to stop these issues. One often infers something plaguing them will stop if they are no longer present with their problems. I've come to find that is a biased way of thinking. While free of their burdens, one's troubles never disappear that easily. They live on, even when their victim is already long gone. Had people known this, however, would they even listen?"

"I don't think I understand..."

"Many don't. One never understands demise until it affects them, but to bring this unknown danger upon themselves, doesn't that bring out more problems? People can recover from loss, but the loss of a person...well that tends to linger on for a long time. A loss's effect can carry on to many people, even if they never knew what was lost at all. While they were unaware of the candle going out, they still feel as though the room has gotten a bit darker.

Putting an end to something prevents the future of that thing from blossoming. Say for instance, a young tree was killed as a sapling. Every creature that tree would ever interact with would lose a part of their lives just like the tree had. Shelter, Materials, or even a place to rest, it would all never come to be. Their lives, while not reliant on the tree, are forever changed. They will forever be other creatures from their possible selves.

The same goes for the next generations of the tree. If the sapling was to die, all from it, everything it could have produced would simply cease to be. While the sapling may die now, with it, an entire lineage of plants and objects die as a consequence. Those who do not even exist yet, vanish from possibility. Such a vile outcome, dying before one can even be conceived."

"You're not making any sense. Why are you telling me any of this? Are you telling me not to kill myself?"

With a bit of a chuckle, the stranger finally looked up from his watch. His face, while mostly emotionless, wore a smile to mask its intentions.

"I am not telling you to do anything. It would seem to me you have been pondering a very important decision. While I do not wish to tell you how to live your own life, I feel that you should know everything that would happen from such a choice. I know very little about you, In fact, I don't really care about your well being, but if you decide to do something without knowing the effects, you could ruin more lives than your own."

"Who...who are you?"

"I'm just a man with the time to tell you the truth. No feelings, no empty messages, just the reality of the situation. Take from my words what you wish, but it would seem I no longer have as much time as I did at the start. I have an appointment any minute."

The stranger rose to leave, pocketwatch in one hand and a briefcase in the other. Mertins leapt out of his seat to stop him.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

"Do not worry, Mr. Mertins. Regardless of your next actions, we will meet again. May you live a long and prosperous life."

He now began to walk away from the bar and towards the drunk. The unconscious man seemed to be unwavering, as if he was no longer present at all. As the kind stranger got closer to him, he closed his watch and took a seat across from him. Slowly he opened his briefcase and got to work.

The man did not see anymore of this. His mind was now focused back on the beer before him. Repeatedly, everything the stranger said began to weigh down upon his mind. If he was undecided before, now he was completely lost. He didn't know what anything was...

Was he given a warning, or was that a conversation which brought him some sort of enlightenment? The stranger didn't tell him what to do, but what did he want him to do? End it all? Live on in misery? Are both choices really so bad? What could he do?

Stewart looked back over at the booth, perhaps to maybe see if the stranger was still present. Maybe he could ask him more. Perhaps he could get an answer to the questions plaguing his mind. While he knew nothing of this gentleman, the words he spoke were driving Mertins insane. No resolution would come to the troubled man, however, for both people at the booth were now gone. A small tip was all that remained.

Sweating, Mertins turned back to his drink. Right now, he needed to think...What should he...? Would doing this...? Is this the right choice? Stewart Mertins now gazed down at his beer, motionless like a statue............