Write a six-word story about what you think the future holds for you, and then expand on it in a post.
Dying is easy. Living is hard.
What can I say? We were all born terminal. Forecasted and destined to die slowly and incurably. That’s the only sure thing in our lives, death. No power, wealth, beauty and magic could prevent it. We will all die. Some sooner than the others. An Italian proverb says: After the game, the king and the pawn go into the same box. True isn’t it? Death doesn’t care about status, it merely collects.
I wrote a similar post once about life, about mortality and the end of it. You can read it here.