a wilted rose

James put a rose on his mother’s tombstone every single year on her birthday.

Her birthday was the same day she died.

Now, there are some silver linings to this story: he didn’t have to go to the graveyard twice a year, and he doesn’t need to worry about forgetting Mother’s Day.

These are silver linings. It may not feel like it right now, but James would eventually realize it. Eventually.

He’d realize it because it should’ve been him six feet under instead of his mother. He knew it, I knew it — hell, baby Jesus knew it.

But if he had died, he wouldn’t be six feet under; he’d have been at least a thousand feet, or wherever the bottom of the ocean is.

After all, they were both on that plane when it took off and when it crashed; both of them were on the same lifeboat, but only one of them had a life jacket.

Would you like to guess which one?

James knows.

I know.

But does Daedalus know?

Wait, what? I’m joking — I just needed a way to introduce a new character. So, let’s take a break from James and go to Daedalus.

Sebastiano Corti

He lived an okay life. Never mind — maybe his life was really, really awful; he did kill his nephew, but that’s all!

He was basically a good guy after that. He might’ve done some other things, but only because he was coerced into doing those other things. I think..

I met him a few days ago.

He was swimming in the River of the Damned (okay, maybe more like drowning miserably rather than swimming, but still!). I looked over at him and asked, “Are you good?”

Daedalus said nothing, simply succumbing to that awful river.

Anyways, back to the point of the story: Daedalus eventually accepted his fate.

Just like how James would accept his fate, destiny, or path.

I mean, he could’ve avoided it. Unlike my good friend Daedalus, no living soul coerced this man into ripping that life vest off his mother when their boat started to sink. No living soul. No dead soul, either.

Admit it — I got you there!

That’s James.

He’s just another condemned soul.

Another one doomed to drown in the River of the Damned.

Yikes! At least it’s not me?

Nope, not me. After all, only those who have passed eternal damnation can be Death.

And that, dear friend, is me.