Isle of the Dead

 

Do not expect my imminent return, Dearest Isola.
 
Matters of a most urgent and grave nature have torn me ... from the home that I love ... from those dear humans whose cherished society I commenced missing within moments of my sighting of Charon.

 

The inevitable had arrived sooner than I might have ever imagined. Robust health, love of life, piety toward God ... these three provide no defense against destiny nor release from the dismal glide over Acheron. Yet, in a most unexpected and singular fashion, I sense that I have become a man to the utmost degree. The irrational fears that plagued my entire, pitiful life have released what I knew to be never anything less than an iron, viselike grip. It is true that I am scarcely at liberty to overturn fate's request to accompany her to my newest and perhaps not so dreaded domicile. I am, however, free to accept joyfully - as a man possessing the courage of his forebears - that I shall reside for eternity on the Isle.
 
Row, Charon, row. Lead me unto my awaited estate ...