A Temporary Respite

_{Adieu (1993) by Jean-Pierre Perreault; Photo: Michael Slobodian; © Michael Slobodian}

A few days ago I read a post from a fellow blogger (Mangimosbi) about “A guide to wasting time at work“. I left a comment there about how I was guilty of some of the items in that list. Seems my sins have finally caught up with me.

For I can see the healthy glint of cold steel of the guillotine through the bars of this prison. I can not miss the incessant stares of fellow inmates and their soft whispered conversations about my predicament. Although there is no direct mention of my pending demise, it still lurks beneath the spoken words.

By the time you find this note, the silent echoes of the blade bearing down the chopping block would have long faded. The blood on the executioner’s robe would have long dried black.

For I write this in the 11th hour of my life behind these walls. The fading glow of a dying candle throws long ghostly shadows on the grimy walls. Dancing to the silent beat of the flickering flame as I try to pen my adieu to you all.

Despite the bleak situation, its respite and freedom for me. But still a return I promise you. Like Gandolf from the Grey to the White. (Well, maybe not exactly to such an extent).

Here now I sit and ponder.

To be or not to be?
That is DEFINITELY NOT the question.

To go out with a whimper or
To go out with a BANG!

Now that!
THAT is the question.

Peace Y’all.

::sja::