Even in Death, He Vexes Me

Dealing with the death of loved ones is difficult (the one year anniversary of my father's death is coming up), but how does one deal with the death of an acquaintance one does not particularly like? What does one do when one finds out that one's most bitter rival has met an untimely end? Should I regret our feud? Could things have turned out differently if we had only met under better circumstances? Part of me feels a pang of remorse... maybe we could have been friends. While his death means that he won't be preemptively stealing the very apples that I've planned to scrump, I can't help but think that those aforementioned apples will taste like ashes in my mouth next fall. The battle of wits made those stolen apples taste sweeter, the rivalry made the very act of scrumping more dramatic. Now, I am robbed of this game, and the lacuna in my spirit vexes me, as does the fact that his corpse is decomposing under my workplace, and the aroma of his passing into the bosom of the earth permeates the building.





Rest in peace, old foe. Our conflict was bitter, your passing pungent.