Chuck Gillis

The cloud broke for a moment, freeing his mind from the haze of fever. He recognized the opportunity and pressed to take advantage of the lapse. There was no doubt that the illness would take him in the end, but he had plans to ensure that it ended with him. It would die with him. He struggled to free himself from the tangle of damp sheets. Minutes later he was on the side of the house heading towards the wood line.

For three days, he lay in the undergrowth, wrapped in nature’s embrace. A cocoon of vines sought to shield him from the cold and coiled tender shoots and thin leaves around his pale form the best they could. Garter snakes pressed against him, keeping loyal company throughout the nights. Insects of every ilk came from their nests and hives to watch over and protect, keeping constant vigil over the body. Nature in her infinite beauty had taken steps to reclaim him, to swallow him into the soil and welcome him back to the earth that created and loved him and would have done so if only given the luxury of time. The men who found him saw none of this. As they dug around the corpse, they spat in disgust about the rot and vermin present.

The widow could muster few words when she was told the details. Viewed as a stoic she hid simple she was simply too embarrassed to admit. It took her two days to even realize that her husband was missing.