Undone

Illustration for an old story.

There was a rare and incurable condition that decays a sufferer. At the end, the person comes undone. Disintegrating. Nothing is left behind. Not even bones. Everything vanishes into air.

This man contracted the condition and went to great length to try and find a cure. He traveled. He studied. He demanded things. He begged. At the height of his desperation, he tracked down a demon. A creature even rarer than his disease, the demon asked if he would hurt others if it had meant that his own life was spared from the affliction.

The man opened his lips.
Words could not come out.
He was tempted and he passed the test.

He turned his back on the demon and journeyed home.

In the final weeks of his life, he created as many things he could to leave behind to the world. And for his loved ones.

He wrote obsessively. Almost foregoing sleep altogether, he could feel Death was rapidly approaching.

At the last day, he walked out into the desert, trembling and afraid, alone and unready, he walked out into the desert and he did not return.