Death

I opened the back door and made sure the screen didn't slam on the dog. I went to the fountain of youth and prepared myself to take another drink. But instead, I just stared at the hot, bubbling, clear spring until the gurgling filled my mind. I looked at the beautiful prize-winning flowers that grew beside it. When in all other places these flowers would die, they flourished here.

The wind rustled through the leaves and mixed in with the spring's quiet burbles, the noises formed words in my mind. I think you've had enough. They said. My dog looked at me. It seemed as if he had heard it too. He looked on with silent acceptance. It was time to let go of life. This was a hard decision to make. Something like committing suicide.

I decided to go out into the woods. I started walking and as I reached the edge of the cedars, I grabbed a few green needles, and rubbed them between my hands, releasing a wonderful resin scent in the air. In all the 147 years I'd been living, I never got sick of that smell.

I sat on a bench that I'd made a long time ago. It creaked a little, and so did I. I was aging rapidly. I looked at my hands. I watched as they started to shrivel and develop liver spots. I sighed and slowly leaned my head back to look at the tops of the cedars that held up the sky. My dog hopped up beside me and laid his head in my lap. I scratched his ears. I suddenly realized how tired I really was. I'd heard that dying was like a really long nap. That didn't sound so bad. I'd also heard that death was the last great adventure. That didn't sound too shabby either. I'd been on many expeditions and in many adventures. There wasn't a part of the world I hadn't seen. Maybe except for the ocean. I didn't want to do any deep-sea underwater junk. Too claustrophobia-inducing.

It was faintly enticing to know that I was journeying to a place no one could ever really tell about and to anticipate what was going to happen next. I started to take deep breaths. This was how I wanted to die; my faithful dog at my side, the smell of cedar flooding my lungs, you know, a storybook death. yeah, that's it, the perfect ending to the perfect fairy tale. That's how I wanted to die. Then, I think almost imperceptibly, I smiled.