A Sad Solution

Murder? Foul Play? What brings us here? Failure exists in many forms.

I stared at the silhouette lying silently on the shadowed sofa. Only a small slit in the shade allowed the sunlight to enter the room. The eerie glow made grotesque the face of the once smiling departed. I kneeled and examined that face. It was bloated and unrecognizable. Lines of exhaustion and defeat were permanently wrinkled into it brow. The grayish cloud of death prevailed over the gleam of what once was, And reminded me of the dead Pike I had removed from the live well on My last fishing trip. The brown eyes staring blank and dumb into the future, The lips silenced and shaped into a sneer that would forever remain Void of sound and laughter.

I wondered what it was that caused the demise of this person. I felt sad knowing that his wife and children would never again Kiss or hold his warmth needing body. Was there ever passion in this person? Did his past satisfy his need for existence? Where were the tomorrows in his mind? Did he have an identity and was he proud of his being?

I looked around the room and examined its content for cause of death. It was in the bathroom with the rusty sink and the discolored and chipped bathtub that I Found the answer. Empty bottles of sleeping pills were everywhere and the caps thrown hither and there as If the poor soul were on a mission of mercy and time was immediate. He must have ingested over 200 pills. I wondered if he had second thoughts, if at the last moment, before unconsciouness, he Panicked knowing that he would spend the rest of eternity in the blackness of Hell? Was he frightened and did he spend his last conscious moments in tortuous horror?

The lost soul's identity had to be discovered. The police and family members had to be notified. I opened the shades to allow light into the room and walked back to the sofa. The body, vacant of mind and emotion, lay still. I noticed its physical characteristics. It is short, stocky and balding. Its nose protrudes somewhat too long for its face and its Chin sags skin onto its neck. Its hands are small and locked in a prayer position. It Must have asked God for forgiveness before it died.

And then..................................... I am disarmed. I shriek with horror. I look at the left wrist and see the identifiable Rolex watch. I search the left hand and see the platinum wedding band. It is there! It is mine! Terror arouses me. I look closer. The face, the distorted face, screams images of putrifying identification.

MOTHER OF GOD!!!!! IT IS ME!!!!!!!

And then I remember why I came to this room And why I did what I did.

And it was good! And it was just! And God smiled! And God forgave. ? And............. Why am I still Alive?

By: Norman Gordon