There was a time when it all made such perfect sense. Such simple and beautiful sense.
Lately it has not.
Now as the last of his blood empties onto the frozen earth it seems to make sense again. Cold, stern sense, so concrete when held in contrast to the last 4 months. All he can hear now is his heart straining to beat in his chest and all he can feel is the cold wind. He has fallen and knows he will not be getting back up. His eyes are fixed on the glow of the sun, still visible through the thick overcast sky. He knows that if he lets them close they will remain that way forever. Even now there are no thoughts of regret, no anger. He did what he knew need be done.
Others around him would not have taken it as far. No one else will know how much it took to see it through, to the end. He didn’t want them to walk this last mile with him, and looking back now, he wonders if any of them could have. Michael would have, but his passion would have caused him to overreact and his angry mind would not have been clear enough to carry out that last act. His fingers would not have been steady, his breathing would not have been controlled, and people would have paid with their lives, innocent people. He will surely feel the most responsibility when they all find out how it went down. He will show his rage. Nothing would have changed this outcome, but he will still beat himself up again and again about what more he could have done. You just can’t please everyone in life, or apparently now…in death either.
Still though, this is what had to be done and this is the way things played out, right or wrong.
Things are getting colder now. The sun must be behind a cloud.
The wind is picking up but everything is so very quiet.
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