The garden shimmered in the morning light, dappled with golden patches of sun that filtered through the leafy canopy overhead. An elderly man, his frame stooped, and his movements deliberate, tended to the tomato plants with care. His face, marked by deep lines and a prominent jaw, bore the weight of years spent navigating the complexities of life. His eyes, though clouded with age, still held a glint of sharpness and wisdom.
He watched his grandson play among the plants, the boy's laughter rising like birdsong in the summer air. A smile touched the old man's lips. In this moment, he was not a figure of authority or power. He was simply a grandfather, passing a peaceful afternoon in the garden.
So much time has passed... too much. But this laughter—this laughter is what it's all been for.
Kneeling down beside the boy, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the orange peel he'd carefully carved earlier. He fixed it into his mouth like a pair of grotesque teeth and growled playfully. The child shrieked with laughter, stumbling backward in mock terror, and the old man let out a warm chuckle, the kind that echoed from a place of pure love.
A monster, am I? No... just an old fool now. But look at him—no fear, only joy. Let him remember this. Not the shadows I walked through to give him this garden.
Then, suddenly, the moment shifted. It started out as a small coughing fit, one that he tried to dismiss. A flicker crossed his face. The smile faded, and the coughs became worse. He reached out a hand to steady himself against the wooden stake of a tomato vine. The warmth in his chest was no longer joy—it was tightness, creeping up like an old debt came due.
Not yet... not now... but maybe this is right. Maybe this is how it should end. Among the vines, in the sun... with him.
He slumped slowly, almost gently, to the soil, the earth he had cultivated with his own hands. The boy continued to laugh, unaware, until he saw his grandfather's stillness and called out for him. But the old man did not answer. Only then he realized something was wrong that he innocently ran away from the gardens and into whoever he can approach
Eyes half-open, his breath shallow, he gazed upward through the rustling leaves. He saw sunlight, shadows, and the faint silhouette of a life once filled with power, sacrifice, and love.
God, how tired I am. But he will grow strong. He will laugh.
"Life is so beautiful."
These were his final words, whispered with a faint smile. And then, quietly, as a breeze stirred the garden one last time around him, he exhaled and was gone.