I am awakened by an erie breathing sound. Slightly erratic and inconsistent.
Tis a dreadfully warm early morning to which causes this erie sound.
An erie breathing sound from DuPont my faithful companion.
My best friend lays sprawled on the carpet which holds his long haired heat sucking it from his body through his hair into the thinned layered carpet and returns his own heat back to him.
I am awakened to his breathing but why on this day?
Why of all days on this day does he awaken me for I know not the answer.
Like so many things that I do not know an answer but I know I must awake for him.
By his side on the cool and relieving concrete drawing out the dreadful heat I console with him.
Discussing many matters to which immediate attention is needed.
I begin to ponder not about trivial things such as the meaning of life for in the long run there is no meaning for we all are fated by whichever collapsed Neutron Star happens to come about our doomed planet but rather that latter fact in itself.
No more than my mortality be focused upon than the eventual ending of the cosmos supersedes my own being, my own existence.
At some point we all will be devoured atom by atom, molecule by molecule and spewed back into the darkness recycled through the great refuse center of the universe and yet I dread not my own demise but his.
The Death of DuPont.
Slowly inching its way into his life and mine, sleeps cousin scavenges his way upon us.
Waiting just long enough for the right time to strike.
Twas only a few moments of this dreadful breathing before I felt an overwhelming urge to vacate what I can only imagine on his behalf to be an stone oven known as my bedroom.
It is as if I could hear the dry air from each pant of his breath begging for moist replacement.
I arise from my awakened slumber and fetch him a bowl of semi-cold water but that doesn't suffice and he doesn't even bother to try to quench any possible thirst that this dreadful sound still ringing in my ears has caused him.
I know he wants some cold air relief so I dress and walk behind as he leads the way to the back patio.
He seems anxious standing at the door knowing that soon it will magically open and he can sleep sound momentarily.
It is in this instant I realize that as humans we are blessed and cursed with a certain knowledge. A knowledge that some just sweep under the rug until its too late and some share it quite openly.
A knowledge that only we humans possess which for some reason I can envy DuPont for this.
For this is death.
Death that he doesn't know will eventually come and put him to sleep one final time.
I've taken this lesson from him in the past not truly knowing why but nonetheless, live in the moment for nothing will last forever.
Otherwise simply stated,
What is the point?
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