I was recently given the following writing prompt:
When I finally realized that death was imminent, one thing because perfectly clear.
Here is what I came up with:
When I finally realized that death was imminent, one thing
became perfectly clear. I was happy.
I’d long ago given up the illusions that I could know what was
on the other side of death, that the unknowing was something to fear. There was
a certain liberated peace that came with letting that particular quest for
knowledge go.
It was a relief to be at the end of things. No more days of
torture. No more nights of agony waiting for non-existent solace. Death is
freedom. Why would I be anything less than joyful?
I looked him in the face, as he came for me. He was different
than I had supposed. This was no creature of the night, draped in black and
steeped in shadows. This was a man of light. His very countenance glowed. His
eyes were the green-gray of highlighted leaves. He smelled of sunshine, sand
and saltwater spray. He was deliverance. Perhaps, as it happens with so many of
us, his appearance is merely a reflection of our feelings for him?
He was my emancipator; he was beautiful. I embraced him, nuzzled
my nose in his neck as he cradled me in his arms. He held me tight and then, he
took me home.
