I stayed up one night and imbrued myself in a movie, all the while fighting the drafts of tiredness. It wasn’t hard though to stay awake as the thought of death suddenly caused me a button of anxiety. I wore it, wore until it troubled itself away like a button loosely adhered to its position on a lapel. Losing loved ones the most miserable, the feel it brought along with it, or the thought that you could have possibly done something to change the outcome of death’s mythical and defeating challenges, however, one is only able to grasp such concept in their mind.
Fashionably as the plight of life’s sorrows lingers, like most mundane issues, its threads eventually became no more, and fell away like that button that never held a chance.
Terry Little
DOC #562207
