A Man Considers His Own Death

March 16, 2054

The gas seeps in around the edges. My sarcophagus. My tomb.

“This end was freely chosen, and let none say otherwise.” Who would sign their name to that? She said otherwise and I am sorry. On the steps, that day, near the hospital. The work of the hospital was not enough.

I remember the ticking of the clock, when clocks ticked, the crush of boredom, shaved ice to soothe-

Balloons. Popping balloons.

Joy is remembered, more than pain. The smell of birthday cake, the sweet smell in this room.

Thoughts have their terminus a terminal point the last station on the tracks-

thoughts won’t stay still. “End with a quiet mind.” Lessons learned from a life lived- just lived.

All that begins, ends. All that ends, beginsTS EliotandHolyBookandnow…