Caring

He cared for the silence more than most. He cared for stillness and the softness of shadows, which felt more relaxing than scary. He cared for the freedom he felt - from dramas and the spirals of ego that posed as intrigue when it was simply shallow tedium and ridiculous pointlessness. He felt about death now the same way he once felt about life (with fascination and affection) only better - it was sincere and not at all self-serving and touched with despair. He cared about them one more time - his people (deeply flawed and tenderly amusing) and then took his leave - hungry for peace and the next thing (always right there, but so patient and kind).