Inklings 2023

There he sat, cold in the face of a warm fire. Alone in a house built for a crowd. He was the father of many children, but none accompanied him in his departure. Even then, they were his greatest accomplishments. He was especially proud of his son. The snow globe was a gift from his son; it was one of those customary, small gifts he would bring to show his love and ad- miration. His son tried to follow his path. Well, not exactly his path, but the logical extension of his path. In the aging man’s mind, he had created the wealth and his son was tasked with dispensing it for the greater good. His son had tried his hand at business, but found the choices that had to be made uncom- fortable. That discomfort was his father’s fault. By not having to struggle through humiliation and poverty, his son never learned how to win. What it took. The son’s only burden was living in the shadow of someone more accomplished and having to dole out money to a sometimes ungrateful public that would be quicker to ask for more than to give thanks. Perhaps everyone who lived successfully and long enough would be in this situation, lonely and cold. Perhaps the best thing one could ask for were all the thoughts and sentiments that swirled around a cold and lonely center. Cold and alone, but filled with a sense of accomplish- ment and a gestalt of a life well spent, the old man closed his eyes and slipped off into oblivion, as sure of himself as he ever was. The snow globe fell to the floor and shattered; the snow, now just pieces of drying plastic, would never dance again. 6