And then the end will come
They took me to a room. It was like a store cupboard. Everything seemed amplified like my senses were getting ready. POLISH the container read there was a washing machine on a cycle. People ferried between me and from wherever they came. They didn’t seem to know what to do. What do I do while I am awaiting the end? I sat in silence and in it I felt the love of the father. Memories came to me of those I love, my earthly father and mother when they knew they had a strange son when on getting lost they found him in a debate with some Latter Day Saints(LDS), my sisters who had joined me in my zealot days when protest was on the streets.
And then there were the countless people who along the way showed the love of the father whether they knew it or not. It felt like love was complete in my heart, my daughter had sealed it, ‘the only begotten of the father’.
A man came in and disturbed the contemplation into which I had settled. The room was dark so I couldn’t quite see that it was him. Had he returned to ask for forgiveness? He seemed frantic, I asked him, “ What are doing here?” He just stared at me like a frightened child. He then took a noose from inside his coat and started to place it around a beam in the room. He asked for the chair I was sitting on. I knew his intention and I refused. It was in a flash that the bullet entered my head. I was in shock, dazed when blood filling my eyes I could still see him, he was falling with the noose around his neck I moved towards him knocking him to the floor, blood poured from me, I was gone.
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