The Last Page

I am a writer.  I have spent my life paying attention to the observable universe, the people and asking the why and how questions.  That includes self-inspection.

Having survived leukemia and a triple bypass, I have to believe that how I pass will be a method specific to writing.  That would, of course, be poetic and be fitting with my life’s work. 

In considering the possibilities, I have concluded there can be only one end to my adventure.  Upon reaching that last page, I will simply succumb to a bad spell.  More than likely  it will be a your instead of a you're. Either that, or a fatal papercut.  The razor-sharp edge of a single ink-stained sheet would surely slice through any barricade of silliness I might take shelter behind. 

That could very well be the weak link within my chain of thought.  Something simple, that’s been right there in plain sight the entire time.  No safety glasses or hard hat to the rescue.  No traffic cones directing me around the hazardous page.  I can only hope that written on it will be...

  The End

 

 If it isn't there, please write it 
on your copy.  Thank you.