Strange Times

What is one thing you wish you could say to your past self ?

A low rumble in his throat as he coughed. Maybe it was too clear out anything that may distort his voice, perhaps he was stalling. The latter proved to be the motivator as his eyes flickered along tiny details across the room, palms curling against his lap. 

In mere moments, his stare had turned to steel, an unwavering, icy, chill inducing look to freeze his words.

" Take what's yours. Don't run, & never apologize for anything. "