Death, the second of the perpetual
She found him sitting in silence, but not waiting for anything. It was a simple place - a bench under a tree, a window opened in the late afternoon, or perhaps the middle of an empty street. The scenario mattered little. What called her was the way he looked at the world at that moment: as who, without saying, began to accept that there was something more, something beyond the mechanical continuity of the days. She approached without making noise. It was not necessary. He already felt it before it emerged. Because there is always a moment - brief as the last beat of the heart before silence - where souls remember that they are not eternal. and she, who never arrives early or late, just arrived.
About Death, the second of the perpetual
She found him sitting in silence, but not waiting for anything. It was a simple place - a bench under a tree, a window opened in the late afternoon, or perhaps the middle of an empty street. The scenario mattered little. What called her was the way he looked at the world at that moment: as who, without saying, began to accept that there was some...Read more