Suliko

First, a beautiful, pale hand brushed the water's surface. The trees reflecting in it swayed in a steady rhythm. Their leaves eased the sadness with a gentle rustle. Six small, warm tears flowed slowly down the cold cheeks of the Suicide. He raised his left hand and wiped them on the collar of his linen shirt. He had gold cufflinks with stolen initials. In addition to them, he carried a deck of cards in his pockets and some branches in his curly hair.

He approached Death and sat down. One hand played with the dirt and sand, the other played with the water. He regretted nothing. In His Blue Eyes, there was no loss. He was certain and felt no regret. He calmed his thoughts and peacefully celebrated the arrival of the long-awaited Moment.

Until suddenly, a Frog, very agile and green, snapped Him out of this trance. He looked at Her gently, as if to say:

Do not fear Death, Little Frog.

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