posted on Sep, 19 2005 @ 11:27 PM
The door closed behind the last one. As time ticked off, the table was now set. Down the long oak gloss table, stood he. A man now of 95. Just
yesterday, it was only a thought. Now it's real. He is set to kill.
He looked around the room. A smug smile, subtle, yet brave. He must forge ahead. It is his time. As explained in all the volumes which are stacked
high across the walls.
She is younger than he. She is 87. She is all ideal. She waits her time. As do the others seated around the table. Abruptly, she moves toward the
window. She stands still. She points. As he turns toward the gaze of the room, he begins his step forward.
Before the window, he pulls down a book. As he walks toward her, he opens it. Closer by the window, he finds the page. He too stands still before the
window. He catches her eye, he turns toward too.
Silence engulfs the room. A still room. A room made up of men and women, of all ages, from all walks of life, waiting on its most important mission.
To end one's life with meaning and honor. To die knowing, believing one did well. Very well. To end as to begin for someone who has yet to end.
He looks down. He cites the column. Quietly he states, "'Mount Weather Operational Center for Positive Environmental Change'". As he peers up, he
catches her eye. Her, his wife, a duty, for life.
Slowly, she points at the hexagon-shaped building known as Mt. Weather in the far distance. She forthrightly says, "There, is our destiny." He
confidently replies, "Yes, there, is our destiny." He pauses for a brief moment before he continues, "As so many before us, I too will shape a
world worth living. I too will kill before caged. And I too will end my life in your memory."
She places a warm soft caress upon his cheek, drawing his head upon her shoulder. She states to all in the room, "Come, see our new objective. An
horizon awaits us anew."
As the crowd gathers around the aged couple, soaking up the last bits of sunlight before it falls away, their eyelids soft with glimmers of hope, for
another new day.
[edit on 9-27-2005 by worldwatcher]