It has been over a year now. Knowing it beforehand does prepare me somewhat, but it really does not make the pain any lesser.
Though I cannot remember which page exactly. I suspected it must be somewhere around page 550 onwards.
If anything, I dreaded it.
That is when the remaining pages are thinner than my little finger.
That is when the climax leaves you almost breathless, conjuring images impossible to deny; it makes you feel like you have been running a marathon for five hours and you could see the finish line, hear the faraway humdrum obligatory cheers of your supporters – but before that, you would still need to climb two hills, grab a cup of iced Milo, turn round another few corners…
That is when you know the end is near, and the only thing to do is to, well… keep going.
I do not know.
Would it make sense to skip a few pages, because you feared what would happen next – then only to continue on, for you did not want to have the wind being knocked out of your lungs; did not want to feel the bullet in your ribs, the taste of blood in your mouth?
Because you would rather not register the pain and anguish that was never yours to begin with?
Because it hit too close to home and reminded you too much of your own loss?
Heart hammering in my chest, I turned the pages slowly, as though I did not want to get there.
But I know I eventually will.
And just like the first time, I teared.
I am still feeling a little lost; empty.
Dare I read it again for the third time?
“Probably a lot of Sureshs where you’re from, like Smith or Anderson.”
Okay, that is good enough – I will try to catch this new series every week. Frankly, anything that wants to associate itself with green code will make me pay attention. Ahem.