The Wick at Three in the Morning

Every time he closed his eyes, the wick came back. Every time he almost drifted off, he heard the mechanical exchange alert in his head. He started doubting everything. Maybe he was never suited for high-risk decisions. Maybe all his earlier “judgment” had just been luck dressed up as skill. The worst part was the shame. Losing money was painful, but what hurt more was realizing he had not only lost money. He had also lost the thin layer of self-respect he had been leaning on. He started hiding from people. Coworkers he used to eat with got excuses about being busy. Friends who once posted charts in the group were suddenly avoided. Even scrolling X became unbearable, because every “I caught the bottom” post felt like a slap.