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The Face
"I shall rather die than not know her face."
The lonely old man whispered these words to himself as he watched the waves crash upon the shore.
He looked out the window often; as the rising and falling of the waves reminded him of the coming and passing of life itself.
Among many things, the window still had the picture of a face that he did not recognize. Alas, he knew it was time.
He grasped the knife he had kept for this very moment, -the only escape- and at this another life had passed.
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This is a short piece that I wrote about an old widower with dimensia. He was gradually forgetting more and more about his life. His wife had passed away many years before; and he said to himself that he would rather die than forget her.