Deep down I had always known this is how it would end. Like a dream which merges with reality. Like a fading musical note. Like the smell of the best perfume ever. And as I lay there, watching the setting sun glistening the road ahead and the small pool of blood almost resembling the cotton clouds in the clear evening sky slowly getting hazier, I knew it was the end.

I had often heard people saying, that the moment we die our life crosses in front of our eyes like a quick movie reel, but I was too tired, too powerless to even see that. I guess everyone is.

It felt okay, nothing special, just a feeling of summer afternoon silence. As if my mother was tucking me in for the afternoon siesta and I, after resisting for a moment, for I did not want to lose the time in which I could have grown my origami collection, finally giving in to her caressing, sleep inducing fingers.

I then remembered my collection. I had a boat, a basket, a plane which made a couple of flips before falling on the ground. I also had an owl which opened its mouth when I pulled a paper strip attached to its neck, Which I called, the tie. It was an ingenious price of art, and I was proud of it. Like everything else. Like all of my other achievements. And like everything else, it was immaterial now.

And there I lay, feeling sleepy,feeling those fingers in my hairs. My eyelids closing as the sun was nearing the horizon.

It was peaceful.


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