I hope my death is not stolen from me by a fiery blast of Fahrenheit or Celsius or another calculatable accuracy. I will gladly relinquish all the pleasures of daily bread, the pride and dreams of art—even pulse; but I hope my death will not be taken from me. Actually, it is a modest policy; little there to discuss as to solace or in the way of privacy. A valued moment of self-possession? Might it be something to embrace more than to expulse? I hope my death will not be pried from me. My end is not to be just a cause in a public sea of scientists teaming against a disease, a private point in a welter of piracy. After all, won't it fundamentally and rightly be mine and no one else's? I hope my death is not taken from me; better, it be an appointment kept in a private sea.
Copyright © 2010 by Scott Hightower. Used by permission of the author.