It was the eight hundred and twenty-eighth thing
he had failed at in his adult life.
He can’t even remember the very first.
How about that?
He even fails at remembering.
So now it’s eight hundred and twenty-nine things
he has failed at,
if you include failing to remember failings.
He remembers the second thing,
he remembers the third thing,
the twentieth (who could forget the twentieth?),
fortieth,
one hundred and thirty-third,
three hundred and second (maybe the worst failing of all),
four hundred and first,
and the six hundred and eighteenth all the way
through most of the eight hundreds.
There’s been a lot of failings.
He has, in fact, never succeeded.
He’s failed at
big things,
small things,
easy things,
hard things.
He’s failed where others have succeeded,
and he’s failed where others have failed to fail.
But now he sits on the
eight hundred and thirtieth thing.
And…
I don’t know…
There’s something about the look in his eyes.
Do you see it?
This time might be different.
A hundred bucks.
A hundred bucks says he pulls it off.
.
