Ben’s eulogy

It was Ben's last meal…

Half a bean burrito he saved from the day before…

Yet, he didn't have time to contemplate the ironic overtone…because he still had something to do. It was the last item on his agenda of preparing to die—writing his own eulogy…

So, sitting at his desk, he wiped off the tangy sour cream from his lips. It wasn't the last thing he wanted to taste and smell, but he couldn't afford to pay extra for guacamole…

Then, he took out a piece of paper, feeling its dry texture on his fingers…

Then, he took out another piece of paper, because he got sour cream on the first one…

And he started to Hemingway…

***

After many hours of effort, Ben looked at the paper in his hands and nodded in satisfaction. He didn't need the credit of bringing this beautiful work into existence...Nor did he care if his fame came postmortem. He even didn't mind if someone else took the credit for his Shakespearean work…