Alone But Not Forgotten

Avatar Author: Funky Chunky *Always* feel free to write sequels or prequels to my stories. I love reading where other writers take my ideas. I was born in 1961 (old codger). I started writing for fun over Christmas 2011. I was recommended Ficly b... Read Bio

Slowly the realisation sunk in that this was truly the end of things. THE END OF THINGS. Why do I still remain when everyone has gone; the friends and enemies, the loves and lives?

Alone with my thoughts, it slowly dawned that my face was dry and the air had lost its ozone tang; gone was the sea spray. I was enshrouded in a dark grey fog that swirled about me like a myriad chiffon veils – intangible yet stroking every part of my being with a tingle of regret. The sense of loss overwhelmed me and, losing the tight control I had maintained constantly since I was a child, I began to weep.

I came to an awareness that a presence had been with me gradually eroding my grief. I opened my eyes and looked about me. Still in the churning mist, I could see nothing except, perhaps, a dim glow to my left.

As I stared, trying to glean any detail within the expanding golden light, this all-pervading warmth filled my soul. The radiance was the source of the warmth. It welled up inside and I was lost. And we became one.

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