Death

                   From The Book

Then, the smell of honeysuckle and sound of waves breaking on a nearby shore brought back even more memories. Memories of a place he had been many times before. As a child, he played by a small river cove not far from his home. As a teenager, the cove was a perfect place to be with friends, to study, to sit and think, or just to be alone.

As the fog began to lift and shapes began to form, Elder could see he was right. He was beside the same river cove he had known in his youth. The tall pines, the clean white sand, and the tiny blue crabs that scurried about in the frothy tide assured him that it was the very same place. He did not know how, but he had returned to a wonderful place he had never really wanted to leave.