BUCK

February 11, 1993 was all-too-consuming, overflowing with revelation. It was cold and intensely gloomy on that dreadful day. Death, the immensely-feared predator of some and, in the final stages of life, likely all, has a way of announcing its imminent arrival in the lives of its unknowing victims by slowly and meticulously embedding within their unconsciousness emotions of unknown origin. Emotions that evoke a sense of pondering, paranoia, and eerie feelings of melancholy demonstrated in one respect by the locked-in vision of two isolated souls, one of whom is its victim. 

            The death-filled atmosphere held steadfast in its grip and gave widespread sanction to the presence and feeling of doom. Buck, now an old man, lay semi-conscious in his hospital bed, trying to hang on to the last few fleeting moments that life had to offer him. His delirium, as it was defined, signaled his senses, as it did those of so many others, to question and to take into account the circumstances that contributed to the horrific reality of his existence. It was the existence of a man whose deeds, along with the deeds of his familial lineage, were brought to fruition. His sins, the sins of his forefathers, his gut-wrenching secrets, his feelings of retribution, loneliness, betrayal, loyalty, loves, and fears, were all waiting to be magnified by those who lurked in the darkness, waiting for what they deemed to be the perfect time to expose his weaknesses.

            Listen, listen attentively to the daily sounds that encircle you; notice the times when you are inclined to gaze upon the countenances of those death has claimed for retrieval and their simultaneous listless gazes into the windows of your own soul. Listen as the pain in the life of one man comes to be; listen to the explanation that lies, the questioning of one's existence, adultery, incest, murder, and ultimately love claim as their justification in being; listen to the battle between life, survival and death!