Quiet, a pause in the deserted city. The tactical team moves in. Camo, gear, guns, training, this is the moment. Footsteps are the only sound, turning, checking, on a mission. Without even happening, it just is. A man down.
Thousands, millions, billions of cars line the earth. Driving the rough terrain, jammed in traffic, moving moving. A daily occurrence that causes no thought. Driving to work, carpooling to middle school, departing on date night, late to a meeting, speeding to the hospital, just a Sunday drive with nothing else to do. Of course you did not know. You never would have left the house. And then it is all over. Life is over.
A bustling Tuesday morning. Coffee is brewing, a quick granola bar for breakfast, make a school lunch, leave the beds unmade. The morning is rushed. Grab a diaper bag and grab the baby. And then that life is over. A breathless baby, gone in the night, leaving desperation, panic, anger, and a life unlived.
Everyone always thinks it will be easy to go in old age. Life is lived and the time has surly come. They had been together through four babies, seven houses, three wars, forgiveness, choosing each other time and time again, and memories of 72 years. She didn’t expect for him to go. They had been together this long, surly it would never end.
Billions have come and gone and somehow we still believe that it will never be me.