A snow flake drifts aimlessly in the abyss of gray haze. Being smaller and lighter than most snowflakes, it blew wherever the winds wanted to blow it and melted quickly after it finally landed on the still warm face of a trapper’s corpse.
A wagon rolls by and creaks out a promise – a lie: “He was unlucky, but you will be prosperous. You have a future.”
A mother shields her child’s eyes from the violence of the trapper’s death, but the fear in her eyes would lead the child’s imagination to create something far worse in the darkness.
A father shows his child the death scene and teaches what the trapper’s mistakes were, but the lessons of self-preservation would become infected and grow into a murderous fear.
A banker spots a fox on the other side of the trail. It was clever, having just taken the eggs of a nearby farmer’s chickens, but it was not clever enough to see that soon there would be no more eggs for them or for anyone.
I used to fear the darkness too and I trusted the light. How silly it all seems now.
I became brave because I was afraid.
I became wise because I made mistakes.
And now that the darkness finally takes me, I welcome it because now I see the light that was hidden within the darkness.