Like any other day the sun was bright, and hope was given to those whose ambition was early to rise. This was the day to sleep in. Feeling the pull against gravity as the elevator goes higher and higher and feeling all the while a sense of climbing that ladder of success. A coworker’s blue tie brings thoughts of passing holidays and what would be the right gift for dad this Christmas. As the doors open to a new today the mind is focused, and the work is to begin... for the last day. Coffee is never so right as it is at the start of a new day and today it seemed sweeter somehow. Just after the thought of the first refill, the incredible sound of the unexplained whipped through content, past annoyance and smashed right into anxiety with such a force that gave the legs both immediate strength and weakness. “What was that?” gave birth to tremors of inquiry that lead to reasons to fear or not to panic and then, happening all too quickly now, racing back down that ladder only to find, no way out.... for now. Waiting ten minutes seemed like enough time for rescue, enough time for prayers to be heard, enough time for a way out. Every memory that might store the answer for escape flashes through every mind. Groping again through the synapse of each cell to find an answer. Still waiting. Looking at each other to see if someone had found the answer. Still waiting. Another thundering bash is heard but this time it is also seen. The Companion is hit and now there are screams and smoke and fire and what seemed not too big to escape has become the all-consuming fire. Reaching for the cell and dialing with speed and accuracy, the call is answered and there are only a few words that say it right and still it doesn’t seem like enough. I love you. I love you. When death approaches it is the most terrible intruder. His gaze holds you and there is no eluding the moment of capture. What is it about being held that brings comfort to the one who trusts? Can Death be the comforter as well? Death is not the brute that wields acts of violence and ignites fear in the minds of children. Death is the portal to escape such acts of tyranny. The irony lies in that the tyrant is the victim of his own misguided zeal... accomplishing nothing other than his own demise. Thus, Death becomes a blessing to the helpless and a curse to those who cause it.
Jia Apple copy write 2018