Epilogue
Brennan
"Every story leaves a shadow--it is u to us to decide whether we live in it, or step beyond."
"Where do I fit in? Where do I see myself in this Story?" I call out to an empty room, as I sit by the fireplace, a glass of bourbon in one hand and a Havana Cuba-no cigar in the other. "I can feel you here watching me, speaking to me without sound."
The wind shifts in the room as I feel the presence come and sit across from me, only a flicker of response as it makes the flames dance.
There is a slight shift in the pattern of the dust floating above the chair, so I raised my glass.
"So, my phantom friend, who are you and what do you want?
Is this the infamous ‘Oliver’ who has haunted my entire existence? "
A whisper rides a ghostly breeze, “Yes and no.” it says.
I take a deep draught from my glass, then lift the cigar, clipping its end, and nestling it into the snifter—letting it soak in the remnants of bourbon like a promise of decadence.
In time, I’d chew and smoke it and savor every note of fire and spirit.
In the meantime, I will slowly masticate my long-pork sausage bites.
"If you're a ghost from my past, I since buried you all around the same time I entombed myself—there was no choice. I arose in the ashes of a corpse and began anew."
The figure seemed to sit back and relax, as I watch the dust stir on the coffee table a name appears.
Christian Downey. I retrieve my cigar once more and light it, taking a long pull, and relax when it hits just right.
“I am going to assume this is Oliver. Why, now, do you make yourself known to me. Why the change of heart?”
A dart flies across the room, landing in the bloodstain left behind by my grandfather. The same name was etched out in the dry burgundy stain. Inhaling deeply, I settle back in my chair. "Allow me—if you will—to recant a story of love, death, and war."
The room goes silent as I speak to the chair across from me, and if to motion me to continue via a gentle caress of a hand, and a breeze that strokes my cheek, I watch as the wind kicks up dust and a shadow takes his place in the chair before me.