Forever

And as he sank he saw his dogs swimming up to him. Tails wagging. He was dead already. So his lungs did not put up a fight any more. The will, the wish, the instincts were all gone. No struggle left any more. Everything was taken care of. He would not be missed. He had been allowed to exit.

His hand, in its last bid to hurt, to make a difference, sank too. He needed it to reach out to the dogs. Scratch them behind their ears. Tell them mommy was back home. Feed them the fish. On time. As always.

But he didn’t know he had still made a difference. The photographer had had split seconds to frame, focus, click. At the moment he didn’t even know what it was. The award had been cash. Enough to pay the bills for a year. That was enough time to think of how to pay his son’s college fees the next.

Life went on. As did death.