Musings About Death

I think it was Simon Booy that said 'Death is the most sophisticated form of beauty and the most difficult to accept.' I feel today that he was correct. The island is gripped with the death of the ferryman, yet it hasn't looked this beautiful in days. There is dew on the green leaves, washed anew after the rains, the darker nights only mean that the fireflies glow brighter. Dare I say, so do some faces. I, of course remain the same. As I have across all these years, behind my counter, watching and listening, for a chink in a facade too perfect, for a face too pale and another too happy. Perhaps a forked tongue painted silver and eyes like unalike pearls and an existence caged now broken free. I notice all and say nothing for I too have my secrets. Those who cannot reveal themselves, dare not reveal others of the same ilk. The ones who bear the mark of death.

- Mocair Ferdinand