Here is a little free prose piece I dug out of my "Haven't seen this in I don't know how long," closet. I wrote this one back in 1968 and I've been thinking about rewriting it, maybe. Maybe not.

A Man ... ... ... Dying by J. Richard Jacobs

A clank and the door rolled open.

Two men entered ... there was to be a priest.

I sent him away ... no need to waste his time

When others ... I was sure ... may need him.

I walked the hall, feet scuffling ... flanked by the two,

Out to the yard in dawn ... peach blush on a cloud's underbelly.

Seven others stood in a line ... formal ... they looked grimly sad.

I heard the roar, as they said I would.

A sudden pain invaded, then dulled, as they said it would.

A sudden flash of brilliance ... white with dancing colors,

That they could not know.

The darkness rushes in ... quickly ... quietly.

I hear voices, without understanding ... they fade.

Do they know how quickly it happens ... I wonder?