He could not help but smile. It was a lot of money but entirely worth the expense and more. Every blooming flower, every carvéd rock. People would know his name and dream to be him. How marvelous, how beautiful it all would be. He drew untold comfort from knowing that all would be right once he was in the ground. He almost could not wait to die.

§ § §

He felt sick. Like a dog. If only he were a dog. He had nothing to leave his family. He would be more of a burden in death than in life. If only he could just go lost. Just run off into the woods. Like an animal. Why does something like death have to be complicated?

1 comment:

Stuart said...

Yours I assume? I like it.