Death of Sorts

I must admit here that when we were “on the threshold of being no more,” we succeeded in being more…..Unwittingly, the ‘eye’ preceded the ‘I’ and for the first time, we realized what it means to not take this life for granted.

It seemed to be over. The doctor had pronounced her dead. A surreptitious surgery beset by infections and indolence, further beefed up by outrageous alterations in her tenderly tactile anatomy. That was a vicious…