Hemingway In Love

     I went into town last Wednesday in hopes of getting a haircut. Mistake number one was thinking any barber shop would be open on a Wednesday. Mistake number two was not bringing anything with me to pass the time between buses except for my phone. My last mistake was not charging my phone before I left my dorm, because it died before I even reached town.
     Bored and with time to spare, I wandered into the book store-- imagine that. I searched for the sequel to Forrest Gump, which is titled Gump and Co., but no luck. Instead, I stumbled upon The Complete Short Stories of Ernest Hemingway. Couldn't hurt to buy, right?

     I purchased the book and began reading outside the book store. The introductions were written by Hemingway's children, as well as Hemingway himself. The man lived a life of a king, at least in my eyes. He traveled, he loved, he fought, he truly lived. And to top it all off, he created a legacy for himself by writing it all down.
     The first short story was titled "The Short and Happy Life of Francis Macomber." Francis was part of a broken marriage. He had traveled with his wife to Africa in hopes of bandaging his relationship with his wife, but managed to introduce her to another man in the process. Francis was not a strong-willed man. He had made a fool of himself on a hunt for a lion, fleeing the scene and the kill. The guide had proved his bravery, though, and it was he that Francis's wife slept with.
     Francis knew of his wife's affair. He knew very well who she was sleeping with. He also knew that there was nothing he could do; he was in too deep. He couldn't leave his wife, he would never find another woman at his age. She couldn't leave him either, as she would never find another husband as well off as Francis. They were cursed with the presence of each other.
     Francis had no choice but to hunt alongside his wife's lover come morning. Feeling a sense of invincibility, Francis became brave, almost dangerously brave. He no longer cared for his own life, he had nothing more to live for, and he took advantage of it.
     I've found Hemingway to be nothing but depressing, and for some reason, I cannot put down his work.