[100 Words is a story in 100 words or less, based off the word in the title.]
The knowledge that the place you are now, the path you are on.
You don’t want it.
The feeling that your life is wasting away, just sliding through your fingers.
There is no purpose. No drive. Just another day of work.
You get a few hours to yourself in the evening.
Then it repeats again.
How long can you last? How long can you just repeat this motion for?
And what happens when you can’t do it anymore?
What happens then?