Submit to the Unknown

The image of him slumped over the hospital bed has dropped anchor in me never to leave.

Unable to sleep, he called me one late-night, his voice a husky whisper.

“We don’t realize”, he said, “how blissful it is to be able to just breathe, lead a Spartan life, get humble, and submit to the great Unknown …”

When he hung up, dawnlight was creeping back in my town. The news of his crossing the Great Divide arrived soon after.

I am now more accepting of the riddle called Life. With him gone, I have got nothing more to lose.

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