616

Thirty Eight minutes into the afternoon. 

The hegemonic smell of germicides and leaden.

The beautiful sunshine and ocean view couldn’t shed light on such a dark occasion. 

Such a state of shock overcomes my body. The anxieties and trepidations I once felt have now dissipated. 

The last minute and unprepared nature of this final encounter has yet to hit my inoperable brain. 

The emotions and behaviors that should send chills down my spine and fill me with fear do not do so. Rather they gently wash over me like a wave. 

The wander to the cot is likened to a hike up a mountain. Each step more fatiguing than the last.

The deafening silence and her inability to speak assists me with ease, while simultaneously slowing down each tick of the clock. 

Speech begins crawling out of my mouth without my permission. 

Every word that exits broiled into my brain, despite my inability to control what departs. 

On completion I lie a kiss on the cheek and give her my reassurance. 

I revolve like the door I entered from toward the remainder of the populace. 

My concluding interaction. My parting kiss. My closing words. 

The cease of a near six thousand day link. 

The handling concluded. The sentiments are yet to wallop. 

I still wonder if they have yet.

The imploration to locate equilibrium and accord. 

I believe that has yet to be accomplished. 

Much like 616, I perceived there was no further to go, yet I hadn’t crossed the finish line yet. 

It wasn’t until I encountered 620 that I understood the sensations are diverse in their attack. 

It didn’t hit for 794 days, and it was then that I realized I had lost it all. 

I learned regeneration of the intellect wasn’t the path. 

Rather innovation and origination were the only paths forward. 

I must hold onto the past, while not bearing too much weight. 

This is what she’d desire of me.