Escapee number forty-seven stood
aside to let the moment pass, before
resuming with his walk. His destination,
as yet unknown to him, was just around
the corner. “Soon,” an uninvited voice
inside his head announced. A wave of endings,
defying every rule of common sense,
first rose then fell upon a shore of bones:
the bones of ages underneath his feet;
the bones of all departed souls spread out
towards each compass point as far any
sharp eye could see. This sea: a silent violence
of suffocating surges, swells and warnings.
“The time is now,” the uninvited voice
proclaimed. “The time is now.” And every not-
yet-breathed breath pushed itself towards the here
and now, for there it stood: his destination.
‘Twas both as large as life, and small as death,
encapsulated in a final breath.