A meeting with Death

A meeting with Death

A Story by victor

 

I vaguely heard the door to my room open.  Deep in meditation, it was not clear, whether I was awake or in a subconscious dream state.  Sensing a presence in front of me I slowly opened my eyes to an all too evident reality.

 A huge man stood over me brandishing a shiny scimitar, ready to strike.  There was no time to determine whether to surrender to this apparent consequence of an uncontrollable destiny.  My mind, without thinking, leapt into the frontal lobe of my brain and my whole being instantly transformed into flight or fight.   A sitting position,with legs crossed, was not ideal for either.

 I rolled and lunged forward into the gap between his legs which he had spread to give him more equilibrium for his deathly swing.  At the same time I tried to stand up, adrenalin flowing to my enfeebled knees.  The time spent in sitting position had not prepared me for this challenge, but I was able to raise myself to a standing position.   As my body clumsily assumed an upright position, it nudged his legs and buttocks enough to knock his body, which was by now in full swing, off balance.  Running to the open door, I took a quick glance, to see his flailing body on the floor.

Once on the street, the force of fright fell and in the crowd, I began to slow down.  I turned on my cell phone to find a message from my daughter.  Her two children where both sick, one seemed to be coming out of it and the other was still in the doldrums.

Tenderness flooded my being.

By giving life, I had committed myself to life.  I still had much to give and take from my progeny.

I sat on a park bench and cried.   It was a cry of relief, a cry of joy for being alive. Strangely, it was also a cry of gratitude.

 Gratitude to death, for having tested my strength, for having questioned my desire to live.  I felt no malice to my adversary, rather a tearful all encompassing love.  Life with all its dreary droll and dross was still worth the effort, and when the time came, death, hopefully, would take me clearly and cleanly.

 

© 2008 victor


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Added on June 29, 2008

Author

victor
victor

Valle de Bravo, Mexico



About
A Canadian living in Mexico, my main vocation is visual art in painting and scuplture, but I have heard that the real money is in poetry. I also enjoy prose and write in that vein as well. Meditation.. more..

Writing
Jabbing Ribs Jabbing Ribs

A Poem by victor


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A Poem by victor