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. Predicted and destined to lead to death slowly; incurably. That’s the only sure thing in our lives. No power, wealth, beauty and magic can 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.