In all of his life, it had been safer to disbelieve in everything. God, ghosts, the afterlife, reincarnation, Santa, the tooth fairy, and even down to other people or himself. If you believed in nothing, nothing was ever going to let you down. The disbelief was his way of life. It was safe, it was protective, it felt like the right thing to do.

Now he was an old man.

He had carried on with his mundane job, not really wanting to get promoted and not wanting the risk of getting fired.

He was single because he did not believe that anybody would ever be able to love him, and also because he believed he was unworthy of anyone else.

Disbelief was total.

The doctor told him he was going to die because he was refusing treatment. What was the point in treatment when you didn’t believe in the science behind it? Everybody was born to die.

Sitting in his small room he had nothing surrounding him but his regrets. He suddenly wished he had done more with his existence. For the first time in his life, he found himself wishing he had some belief to give some comfort.