Witch's Brew ~The End~

Witch's Brew ~The End~ The witch seemed to know everything, absolutely everything about me. It was uncanny and rather frightening, yet remarkably intriguing nonetheless. I had crossed her palm with silver - my reward would be read in mine. "You have traveled far during your life." She intoned as her long fingernail traced the contour of one of the lines deeply wrinkled into my hand. "Yet in all your travels you have failed to fulfill your deepest, innermost wish." I could feel the tears welling up into my eyes as her words stabbed my lonely soul. "What you seek you cannot find by searching. You must stumble upon it when it no longer monopolizes your every thought." I left her so many years ago and even now her words haunt me. Yet I could not clear the images from my mind nor develop a more relaxed receptive attitude. Relationships and conflicts have scarred me, and callused my sensibilities. My feelings no longer leap at the slightest provocation. Pain and grief have dulled my senses. Disease has wracked my failing body, and I lie here in this cold, sterile room... alone with my thoughts and the hissing gas. "So what have you been doing with your life?" A stranger sat at the foot of my bed, blond-haired, pleasant light complexion, with a broad endearing and warm smile cutting a toothy grin from ear-to-ear. "Do I know you?" I asked, a little startled by his seemingly sudden appearance. "You have always known me... just think about it." My mind swirled, I felt a lightness I had not felt in what seemed countless ages. The stranger held out his hand, and my own closed gently in its warmth. Without hesitation, without pain, I rose and went with him to wherever he might lead, leaving behind the useless wasted shell of what I had eventually become. And so, even though throughout my life I had squandered precious effort in a fruitless search for love and faith, in the end I realized it had always been a part of me, hiding deep within my soul. Willingly and with a feeling of great joy I went with the Angel of the Lord... ... the Angel of Death... to my reward. 12-22-2001 Written December 23rd, 2001 © on Dec 22 2001 03:04 PM PST, Heinz Scheuenstuhl    0 • 12