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Both men were dying, but only one knew it. The sunlight beamed over the far away hill and crept into the bedroom of Youngman. It slowly crawled across his room and along his face. The sunlight was like an infection to Youngman. It seeped across his face and into his pores, making his skin moist. He rolled off the mattress and stepped over to the window. Drawing the window curtains closed he noticed Oldman outside. Oldman stood straight and tall. His hands at ease and to his sides. Stepping off the porch, Oldman walked onto the sidewalk and down the road. With a thought in his mind, Oldman marched. The thought that danced in his head was the desire to live. It acted as an engine. It was an engine of power and force that fueled his body to keep moving. Although he knew what was soon to come, his longing to keep breathing was too strong. The thought blocked out death--the creeping blanket of silence--that would abruptly lay itself upon Oldman. “When it comes to this age; when it comes to every face I touch, every song I hear, and every plant I smell they are all astonishingly beautiful.
Approximate Word count = 738
Approximate Pages = 3
(250 words per page double spaced)
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