whispers from the shadows of things too terrible to speak aloud, with a drooling grin, does he tempt and taunt, daring spectators to part the shroud. While the raspy voice may be easy to ignore, there are legions, fiendish friends not far behind, louder, stronger, and bent on gore.
An eye that once glistened, beheld an inexplicable spark of humor, life, passion, now glazed and dilated. Reaching out in futility, knowing the soul has gone ahead, and what lies here now holds nothing but a passive resemblance to the beacon it once was. Grasp a hand, having done so innumerable times before. Taking the weight of a stale and flaccid limb, presenting profound absence. Recoiling in shock, at realization that the blood that once rushed through these veins, has pooled and congealed, within this body that will wither in time, turning to dust as if it …show more content…
The flesh already taut and cool, all warmth and forgiving gone. Stinging eyes and swollen throat while straightening clothing, arranging hands upon the chest in an effort to show respect for what was, a brief time ago, a friend, now brought to final form, without fanfare. No crowded room, no huddled mourners, only a friend left behind. A rap upon the door announces the arrival of a morbid conclusion to this tragic evening, a long black hearse, A Cadillac, points for style. At the helm a man, weary and sleepy eyed. Somber, respectful gentleman, avoiding eye contact, so as not to acknowledge watering eyes, trembling exhausted voice, directing him to the dimly lit bedroom. Lingering in the doorway, while the man goes to work, averting gaze from this process, clearing throat to cover the sound, the zip that echoes still, years later. A ripple of agitation as the gurney rolls through the common room toward the open door, a wheel squeaks momentarily, as if a shopping cart. Gently the man, slides
An eye that once glistened, beheld an inexplicable spark of humor, life, passion, now glazed and dilated. Reaching out in futility, knowing the soul has gone ahead, and what lies here now holds nothing but a passive resemblance to the beacon it once was. Grasp a hand, having done so innumerable times before. Taking the weight of a stale and flaccid limb, presenting profound absence. Recoiling in shock, at realization that the blood that once rushed through these veins, has pooled and congealed, within this body that will wither in time, turning to dust as if it …show more content…
The flesh already taut and cool, all warmth and forgiving gone. Stinging eyes and swollen throat while straightening clothing, arranging hands upon the chest in an effort to show respect for what was, a brief time ago, a friend, now brought to final form, without fanfare. No crowded room, no huddled mourners, only a friend left behind. A rap upon the door announces the arrival of a morbid conclusion to this tragic evening, a long black hearse, A Cadillac, points for style. At the helm a man, weary and sleepy eyed. Somber, respectful gentleman, avoiding eye contact, so as not to acknowledge watering eyes, trembling exhausted voice, directing him to the dimly lit bedroom. Lingering in the doorway, while the man goes to work, averting gaze from this process, clearing throat to cover the sound, the zip that echoes still, years later. A ripple of agitation as the gurney rolls through the common room toward the open door, a wheel squeaks momentarily, as if a shopping cart. Gently the man, slides