I’ve
been watching him for a long time. He’s an interesting man.
Torn between
life and death, he does what he must to survive. And I sense no enjoyment in
the things he did, does and will do. He simply feels driven to find peace.
He’ll find
rest soon enough, but there’s so much work still to do. This IS a fine spot
indeed, but it’s too early for him to know why.
He’s aware of
me. Well, he thinks he knows what I could be. But he doesn’t really comprehend.
They never do.
I see
everything, I defy time and the laws of your so-called sciences. I am the end.
I am not your final breaths, I am simply finality.
He approaches
me, again. Finding me in the places he least expects. This time, on a hill
overlooking his homestead. A place to finally rest.
“This is a
fine spot, John.”
