Hope

Hope is a dangerous thing. Pandora was right when she tried to keep it in the box. Hope is a master of illusions. She shows us our dreams and goals, achieved and accomplished. Mirages of fame and fortune. Glittering, succulent gems dangling just out of reach.

But it does not do to dwell on dreams. We waste away before dingy brick walls, gazing into the hazy distance. Hope tantalizes us, teasing cruelly. She's a sadist and a monster.

Goodbye, hope. I don't think I'll miss you much.