THE THUDDING SILENCE
3. THE THUDDING SILENCE:
And then I looked up and said : “why have you done this to me ? you have taken off both my hands and shackled my arms and now I cannot even erase the slate clean so as to start anew" and had there been reason to answer something surely I would have but instead I saw straight before me the oldest man I’ve ever witnessed sitting on the bench nearby and his head was down and he moved not a muscle NOTHING stirred as if he were dead and I watched for his face to turn my way or some movement of his arm or anything to show me life but the gray suit and the old fedora simply remained motionless and near his side was a cane which moved not and nothing showed life at all and the seat he was on - I knew - had been recently sat upon so that was not un-recent but still he made no motion and I thought of the aged and wondered of them and their ways and thought of myself in that situation : would I welcome death itself and await the respite of the thoughts of it instead ? would it speak to me and keep my ears and mind busy or would I be ambling solitary without a chance to exchange thoughts with DEATH itself and all its minions and before him was the harbor and the bay and a few boats were rocking as the water swayed - cargo ships and tugboats and tankers sliding grimly by with that strange silence of commerce on water and there was nothing to do but watch and wait (just as HE was doing too!) and all I heard was that thudding silence for TIME the erstwhile enemy DOTH not speak to us.
1 Comments:
Nice. I recently realized that I tell myself that I am not scared of death, but I'm a big fucking liar. I'm terrified of it...and I stopped and thought about it long and hard and can't figure out how I'm going to get over that...but I'll have to eventually.
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