Monday, August 4, 2014

The Lucky Man

He died at home in a soft bed with his boots off - peacefully, surrounded by those he loved most on this planet. 

Outside the birds nested in the trees, singing their peculiar nighttime lullabies. In this room of departure, a soft light illuminated the still face as his last breath gently slipped into the no more.

Just a finite number of days before, he had been on another continent, attending to book signings. That voluminous tome, an embodiment of a lifetime of dreams and poised attention,  finally bearing fruit.

A finite number of days before that, he had been on yet another continent, even further away from that bedroom of no return. He had galloped up the steps of golden temples, gazed at giant Buddhas, picked his way through trash as women in colorful dresses balanced trays of watermelon on their heads and sashayed around his inquisitive gaze.

He was a lucky man.

 

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