this isn't the end

He had days left at best, by now Haiku was fading quickly, the decline was measurable everyday. He had come to peace with it, and he had Bowen, his one true love, beside him to guide him onwards. This wasn’t the end of his existence, he knew there had to be an afterlife, now it was only a matter of time before he found out for certain. Breathing was laborious and there were moments he wished for the end so that he would no longer have to struggle for every breath. The dilemma was real though and he had no desire to speed the process. Life was ending, didn’t he want to savor every moment? To know that he was hanging on for just another second of victory over the inevitable loss of the war.

Bowen stayed with him, but he had snuck from the den that morning, he knew he didn’t really have the strength for it but he wanted to see the sun rise. So before the break of day he made his way to the river. There was a cold gust and snow as the last of winter held on to them tightly. Symbolic of his own plight. Hanging on as death slowly took him, only to await the rebirth of spring. He would not see the first blooms however, he could only hope his memory would live on in some semblance as he left the mortal plane.

The skinny ailing man settled onto the snowy bank, facing east as the first rays of light began to trickle over the sky.