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Rated: E · Fiction · Death · #1798790
my take on death.
As the rain lightly fell on the floor at my feet. I rocked in my chair slowly, waiting for the wind to pick up. a slight sigh was sounded by the front door as it brushed across the floor. As she walked to my side with her effortless grace. Without a word she put her hand on my shoulder and looked down the long driveway leading to the house. our house. There stood a man dressed in black attire. A silver cane in is hands poised right in front of him.
He tapped it once with very little effort and released his hands to let it stand on its own. with astonishment i turned to my wife to see her image staring at me solemnly as she seemed to wash away in the light wind.
Tears began to crawl down my cheeks as the memory of her death played over and over in my head. as i turned slowly back to the man in the black suit. The cane still standing on its own as the man held his arms out with his palms up. As i watch this ludicrous act i saw that no rain touched this man. the rain was falling harder now. the droplets began to grow to the size of a nickel. but the rain began to slow. the sound seized to exist. the rain froze in mid-air and the man looked at me. his gray eyes gleamed at me.
"come, my boy." he said with a voice too old for his appearance. Without a second thought i rose to my feet and started down the stairs. i was leaving my home. the place I haven’t left in twenty years. and i had no idea on where i would go. i took one look back to see an old man sleeping in my chair. i had built that chair with my own too hands. i began to walk back to this old man to give him a pounding. but as i reached the stairs i found that old man to be me. dead as a log with a smile on my face. air rushed out of my chest as i turned to run. run from this nightmare of a dream. but as i turned all the way around the man was but 3 feet away from me. his head cocked and eyes caring as he looked over me. he reached out on hand and grasped mine.
"She’s waiting young man... for you." as his words ran through my head what seemed a hundred times it finally clicked. i was dead and this was the afterlife. I know I wasn’t to religious but this was it. a time to see if god is real or not and a time to see her. as we walked to his silver cane he did not talk nor look over at me. the rain parted and never touched ether of us. there was no reflection in the numerous puddles that we walked on. we were but 3 feet from that cane when we stopped and looked at me.
"Shall we then?"
he reached for the cane and with a blinding light i was blinded. when i came too i was standing in a lush field with a single oak tree on a small hill. and on that hill under a white umbrella she sat in a dress.
“So my knight in shining armor 'as arrived."
“I see my rose still has her thorns."
© Copyright 2011 uncle T (toasterboi at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1798790-the-old-man