DOUG EICHER
NOTEBOOK
Prologue4/21/2019 The air of death is a heavy one. There's one last surge of stimulation that races through the neurons; one last gasp at hope, and then nothing. Even the very cells themselves, deprived of their source of life, begin to die. The eyes close and the breath fades. The skin starts to shrink as it cools, taking on the jaded hues of death. The muscles contract, relax, and then slowly turn to stone. The air grows heavy with the putrid stench of death as the body begins its journey back to the dirt from which it came. Darkness fell. The Earth itself seemed to moan from within its shroud of shadows. The bitterness; the anger; the regret; the heavy scent of decay. The rain continued to fall; deep, black drops under a broken sky. The words he wished could be unspoken; the innocence she wished could be taken back; the dream that shattered into a thousand crystal shards in the cruel hands of circumstance. The war-torn fields, soaked with the blood of innocence; the empty bunks in Auschwitz; the smoke on the New York City skyline. The air of death is a heavy one. It was early morning. The Earth was asleep, its red-rimmed eyes still stained with the crimson tears of yesterday. It was quiet; deathly quiet. Even the wind seemed to tiptoe as it slipped through emerald hands and wound its way around the cold stone, searching for an entrance. The sky glowed with a soft, amber hue, like dying embers, as the pale, perforated dome gave way to the gentle cadence of dawn. In the darkness, the heavy air stirred. Above the cacophony of silence, there was a sound. It was barely audible; just a whisper, and yet the very stone itself seemed to vibrate with the rhythm of it. It was the sound that haunted the dreams of Pilate's wife and stirred Herod in his sleep. It was the sound that stole Mary's breath and drove Peter on like a madman to the tomb. It was the sound that surprised Thomas and rang in Stephen's ears. It was the sound that steadied the knees of the martyrs and lit up the torch-lit tunnels of the Catacombs with hope. It was the sound we never expected, and yet we had been waiting for all along. It was the sound of death being flung into reverse. It was the sound of a heartbeat.
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