Watchers from a Far Country

(June 2013)                          

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Suddenly, with one last gasp of life, a deep breath-hug to the world that he had won and lost, Sam pulled his pain inside and was gone. Avi stared at him, confused, immersed in the chasm that opened before him.

She sat back in the chair and then leaned against the edge of the bed. Her body shook with a violent force that tore through her as she covered her face with her hands and wept.

All the pieces fit into place, whether they matched or not, practical ends that tied up a lifetime, reduced to details and rituals that needed to be done.

Together they walked through the silent corridors and stood numbly at the elevators, trying to accept the enormity of death, holding each other and their aloneness.

Avi took a deep breath, trying to feel a bit of the courage that Sam wanted him to own. He began to jog along the road, headlights of cars shooting past, horns blaring as they narrowly missed him. Lights glowed from homes spread neatly over the newly fallen snow, families snuggling together, for him a distant intimacy. He wanted to be there, inside, warmed and wanted.

Drunk and furious, Gordon slipped on the icy grass, swinging wildly off balance and then toppled over. Avi rolled away and stood up. Gordon got to his knees, tried to stand up and then vomited into the snow.

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