Are all of the weak ones gone? Have they already succumbed to the grip of death? Why else are there no more announcements of the end, written vaguely to assuage the living? The real stories of pills and a hanging, helmeted body are left from the church bulletins. We don’t want to announce the end as being unnatural, but what is more natural than a brain attacking itself?
I think of joining them, in the most dramatic of ways. To see my friends again and to recount the old days. I dream of the day when I’m weak as they were, yet their strength is evident with how long they lasted. If three children couldn’t save him, what hope do any of us have?
Are all of the weak ones gone? Or did I leave them?