The Dawn of Cooking

In between brewings of batches bitter, I sit down to rest and breathe. In and Out. I let gusts like guests into my abode. Frantic I try to cover my mouth the moment I choke. Too late. The toxin already made itself at home. In a short moment, it will take over the master bedroom. Suffocating I gasped last words unspelled, therefore lost. I think them to myself and smile: "Time has been kind to me. To my loved ones. I can go."

Last updated

Was this helpful?