The moment

Sometimes I am distracted with life as it happens, sometimes I am not distracted by it and I have time to fee it. Then it comes . . .  It can start slowly just like getting out of the cold in a patch of sun, I feel it slowly melting away the icicles in my memories and polishing them until they have overwhelmed me. Other times it comes so suddenly that I have hardly time to realize it.
But every time, every single time it hits me so hard that it knocks the breath out of me.
Helplessness, loss and blackness so deep, a void so  . . ..
This is death.

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