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"He was a hero to some, a villain to others, and wherever he rode people spoke his name in whispers. He had no friends, this Jonah Hex, but he did have two companions: one was death itself… the other, the acrid smell of gunsmoke."
Wyoming Territory
The Red Desert
1886
Jonah Hex walked alone across the hot, desolate landscape. He'd been walking for about five hours straight and had only just recently removed his confederate army jacket and tied it around his waist because it was starting to stifle him. He'd left his confederate hat on, though, to block the sun from his eyes and to stop the sweat from getting in them. Even so, his face was covered in sweat, as was his bare chest and back, which glistened in the boiling sun. You would think that after five long hours of trudging through sand, a man would be tired, but with each step of his heavy, leather boots, Jonah Hex only became angrier and more determined to keep walking until he had walked himself out of that desert and into the nearest town. After a short rest and maybe a bath, he'd track down the outlaws who had abandoned him out there to die and give them a bad case of lead poisoning.
That thought made Jonah smile a rare smile, which would have almost made him look pleasant if it weren't for the fact that the whole right side of his face was so badly mangled and scared that a smile on him couldn't look anything but ghastly.
All of a sudden and against his will, Jonah fell to his knees. He looked around him at the sprawling wasteland on all sides, then down at the empty gun holster attached to his belt. The outlaws had taken his gun, so there was no hope of a quick and merciful end. Jonah looked up at the unforgiving desert sun and then straight ahead of him at the shimmering horizon. With a smile still on his face and his eyes wide open, he fell forward, face first into the sand.
After all, he was only human.
When next he opened his eyes, Jonah was laying face up in the sand. His army coat was back on and he was no longer hot or sweating even thought the sun was still as bright as it had been all day. He sat up, confused, and immediately realized he no longer felt exhausted. In fact, he didn't feel anything at all. A comfortable numbness had taken over his whole body. Jonah shook his head to clear his mind and then stood up and dusted the sand off of the seat of his pants. When his hand brushed his gun holster, he realized his Colt .44 was somehow back where it belonged.
Now, Jonah Hex wasn't the type to do too much talking to himself, but this revelation made him say, "What the hell?" out loud.
Almost in answer to his question, Jonah heard a rustling sound of wings and looked over to see a large, black raven scuttling along the ground a few feet away from him.
What the hell is a raven doing in the middle of the desert? Jonah thought to himself, but stranger things had happened, especially to him, so he didn't dwell on it too long and decided to continue his trek instead. He turned himself towards what his body told him was west, the direction he'd been heading, and started walking again.
It only slightly occurred to Jonah, after another hour or so of walking, that he still felt nothing: not fatigue, not thirst, not hunger, not even sore feet. He just chalked this up to the nap he had taken as well as his naturally sturdy constitution and put it all out of his mind. He turned his thoughts instead to all the new and interesting ways he was going to dish out justice to the owlhoots that had left him out in the Red Desert to die. These bloody thoughts danced through his head for some time before Jonah finally came upon a road.
'Bout damn time, he thought. Since there was no signs or anything posted around, he figured it didn't matter which way he headed down the road, so he went south. After only about twenty minutes of doing so, he saw something even stranger than the earlier raven. Standing on the side of the road, dressed in a long, black, fine dress, was the palest young woman he had ever seen. Her skin was so white that it looked like the moon and her dark, poufed hair and equally dark eyes only accentuated the paleness. She held a black parasol above her head to block the sun and in her other hand a lacy, black fan which she was using to cool herself even though it didn't look at all like she was suffering any discomfort from the heat, to spite her clothing.
As he approached her she showed no sign of surprise or fear, which is what his appearance usually garnered from everyone, especially women. In fact, she smiled at him and greeted him as an old friend.
"Jonah Hex," she said in a lovely, sweet voice. "You look like you've been wandering a long time."
"I ain't wandering, I know exactly where I'm going," Jonah shot back at her, "And how do you know my name? Who are you?" Jonah didn't like strangers being too familiar with him. It made him feel at a disadvantage.
"I am one of your oldest companions," said the woman, enigmatically. Jonah noticed that she had a black swirl tattooed near one eye, and a foreign looking talisman hanging from her neck. He knew it definitely wasn't an Apache symbol. Maybe something from one of the other native tribes, though, or possibly from the orient, he thought.
"What are you talkin' about, woman? I don't know you from Adam," said Jonah.
"If you say so," said the woman. "So, are you going my way?"
"No, I'm going my way," said Jonah. He didn't have time for this weird conversation, so he turned away from the woman and continued walking south.
"If I was you I wouldn't stand around here in the desert dressed like that for too long," he called to her over his shoulder. "You're liable to catch heat sickness and end up buzzard food in no time."
"The buzzards are my friends," whispered the woman, but Jonah didn't hear her. He was already several feet away from her at this point.
Jonah didn't think a second thought about the woman throughout the rest of his journey, and finally, after what felt like days, he saw a road sign that said REDEMPTION, and beyond it was a small town. Walking into the town, Jonah at first thought it was an old boomer turned ghost town, since there was no people or animals to be seen anywhere and the whole place was as quiet as the grave. Then, as he walked past the general store, he heard the twang of some banjo cords and saw an old, toothless man in nothing but a pair of dirty overalls sitting on a bench on the store's porch plucking away. The man looked at Jonah, and Jonah looked at him, and then in a soft, haunting voice the old man began to sing as he played.
"Kiss me mother, kiss your darlin'."
"Lay my head upon your breast."
"Throw your lovin' arms around me."
"I am weary, let me rest."
Jonah gave the man no more than a glance and then walked on as he continued to sing. All of a sudden, as he passed the town livery, something suddenly jumped out at Jonah from behind the building. It was a short, young, white girl who at first seemed to be dressed like a native. Half her head was bald and the other half had long strands of thick, multi-colored, braided hair with feathers in it. She had black, and blue, and fuchsia streaks of paint on her round face and her eyes were two different colors: one blue and one green. She had almost no clothes on, just a small blouse which hung off her shoulders, some torn, lacy gloves, and a dress that was so tattered and torn it looked like a loin cloth on her. She wore no shoes and Jonah noticed she had slender, smooth legs. Only women with money could afford to have freshly shaven legs, Jonah knew, but this girl appeared to be homeless or even feral based on the wild way she growled as she jumped out at him.
He drew his gun quickly in surprise, but then holstered it when he saw she posed no threat to him.
"People lose lives jumping out like that," he said, gruffly.
The girl just laughed a tinkling laugh and as she did so, rainbow colored bubbles began to rise out of her hair and float through the air.
Jonah screwed up his face in confusion.
"Is everyone 'round these parts insane?" he asked.
The girl got very serious. "You wouldn't even believe how many matches have burned." she said, as if she were saying her aunt was well.
Jonah gave her a blank stare and then walked on past her. The girl would not be ignored, however, and chased after him, dancing and flailing around the whole way.
"Whatchu got a gun for, shooting fish in a barrel?" she asked.
"Shooting people. Leave me alone," Jonah growled.
She didn't.
"It's funny you should come to this town, this town has all manner of puppy things. Old wedges and green bees."
"Go talk your crazy talk somewhere else," said Jonah. He didn't suffer fools gladly.
The girl was about to say something else as she dipped forward, almost bumping into Jonah due to him coming to a sudden stop, but instead she caught herself and looked up at what he was looking at. In front of them, in the center of the small town, was a scaffolding atop which was a gallows that had one lone noose swinging in the wind, waiting.
Jonah grunted and walked on in the direction of the nearby saloon. The girl just stood where she was and watched him go and then a smile crept across her face while a tear ran down her cheek from the eye that was green.
Jonah walked through the saloon's swinging doors and into an empty, silent room. There wasn't even a bartender behind the counter.
"What is this? Where is everybody?" he asked out loud. "This place a ghost town?"
He turned to leave, but two generic men now stood in the entrance, blocking his way. They were wearing cowboy hats and long dusters and had revolvers pointed at Jonah's head.
"I help you boys?" Jonah asked, annoyed.
"It's time for your trial," said one of the men.
"What trial?" asked Jonah.
"At the courthouse," said the other man.
"Talk sense." Jonah demanded. He was getting supremely pissed at all these strange scenarios he kept encountering all of a sudden.
"Come on," said one of the men, stepping forward and pulling some manacles out of his coat pocket.
"If all you got is two men, you're gonna need a whole lot more," said Jonah. "If'n you think your taking me."
"How about three men?" said a voice behind Jonah. He turned to see another man standing there with a shotgun.
Nobody can sneak up on me, thought Jonah.
Suddenly there was a sharp blow to his temple and Jonah passed out as the world began to get hazy around him.
When he came to he was sitting on a bench inside a courthouse hallway with his hands cuffed in front of him and dried blood on the side of his head. He groaned. This was the second time in twenty-four hours he'd had to wake up from sudden unconsciousness and he was beginning to resent it. He looked around himself and saw no one, then some double doors opened next to him and a bailiff came out.
"Right this way, Mr. Hex," he said. He came and helped Jonah to his feet by pulling him up by the shoulder and then he nudged him forward. Jonah's gun was gone again and he was still a bit numb and groggy, so he did as he was told, but not before saying to the bailiff, "Don't touch me."
The bailiff backed away from Jonah, but followed him into the courtroom. Turns out that that's where the entire town must have been all this time, because the room was packed with about four hundred people all the way up to the balcony seats. As Jonah made his way down the long isle towards the front of the courtroom the audience jeered and booed at him. Jonah sneered at them like a western rock star and walked with his head held high. He reached the defendant's table and took a seat next to an empty chair.
Figures I wouldn't get a lawyer, Jonah thought to himself.
At the other table across to the side of his sat a young man in a white suit. He looked remarkably like a political cartoon Jonah had once seen in a newspaper, Jonah thought. The prosecutor, no doubt.
"all rise for the honorable Judge Gallows," shouted the bailiff after he took his place next to the bench.
The audience took to their feet, all the while chattering excitedly, as an old man with grey, wild hair and a scowl on his face emerged from a side room and sat at his seat high above Jonah Hex, who also stood, albeit reluctantly. The judge began to bang his gavel, which was shaped like a skull, repeatedly on its sounding block.
"Order!" he shouted in an angry voice. "Order in this court!"
Everyone got quiet.
"You may be seated," said the judge, then he picked up a piece of paper in front of him and began to read it out loud, "This court will now be hearing the case of the people versus Jonah Hex. Are both sides prepared and ready?" he asked.
"Yes, your honor," said the prosecutor.
"Like hell," said Jonah, angrily standing up. "I don't even know what I'm being accused of!"
"You're accused of murder, Mr. Hex, now sit down and button up, or I'll hold you in contempt," said the judge.
"Murder," grumbled Jonah, as he sat back down, "This is ridiculous." He casually glanced back at the audience behind him and for the first time noticed that not all of them were exactly human. One person appeared, in fact, to be a giant trout fish in a brown three-piece suit and bowler hat. Another was just a large chess piece.
"What the hell is going on?" Jonah whispered to himself. "I feel like I'm dreamin', or delirious, or... somethin'."
"Maybe you're dead," said a childlike voice from right beside him. Jonah turned to see the girl with the multi-colored hair from earlier had somehow appeared in the chair next to him. He scoffed. "This better not be what death is like. If this kangaroo court is all that the killers and rapists and thieves I've done in have had to go through, I'd be mighty disappointed," he said to her.
"Maybe this is YOUR death. Maybe it's different for everyone. Like a sunset," said the girl.
"Girl, you don't make no sense," said Jonah, plainly.
"Mr. Hex, who are you talking to?" asked Judge Gallows, loudly.
Jonah looked up at him and then back over to what was now just an empty chair again.
"No one, your honor," he said.
This was going to be a long day.
"The court would now like to call it's first witness to the stand, your honor," said the prosecutor as he smugly paced around in front of the bench with his hands behind his back.
"Proceed," said Judge Gallows.
"The court calls Jonah Hex," said the prosecutor with a smile.
Jonah stood up and marched over to the witness stand. The bailiff held out a bible for him to swear on, but before Jonah could object himself the judge said, "Oh I don't think that will be necessary at this time. Our Mr. Hex is always brutally honest."
Jonah grunted.
"Prosecutor, you may begin," said the judge.
"Mr. Hex, could you please state your name and occupation for the court?"
"Jonah Woodson Hex, bounty hunter," growled Jonah.
"Which means what?" asked the prosecutor.
"I find criminals and bring them to justice, whether they want to go or not," said Jonah.
"And you bring these people back alive?"
"Not all of 'em."
"You've had to kill some?"
"Yes."
"And what crimes are these people guilty of?"
Jonah Hex eyeballed the prosecutor.
"All manner of things: rape, theft, murder," he answered.
"So because someone is a rapist or a murderer, this justifies your killing them, does it?"
Jonah became angry and lunged forward. The audience gasped.
"I don't make the laws," he said, "You folks do. The law says I can use any means necessary bringin' 'em in. Sometimes they like to be difficult, so alls that's left to bring is their head."
The audience started chattering again and Judge Gallows had to bring them to order as Jonah sat back with a satisfied smile on his face. Nothing he liked better than shocking polite society.
"So, Mr. Hex," continued the prosecutor once all was quiet. "Am I to understand that you feel you are morally above the criminals that you hunt, because you just so happen to have a license to kill and they don't?"
"What the hell is this?" demanded Jonah, angrily. He was really getting fed up. "I thought you was accusing me of murder, what do all the bounties I've collected have to do with anything?"
"Watch your mouth, Mr. Hex, or I'll hold you in contempt," scolded Judge Gallows. "And to answer your question, it is those very same bounties you are being accused of murdering, as well as many an innocent bystander."
"Any deaths caused during the course of my duty is accounted for by the law, I just told ya," said Jonah. "I ain't never purposely harmed nobody that didn't deserve it."
"And who decides who deserves what, Mr. Hex? You? God?" asked the prosecutor.
"Seems to me it's sniveling, pencil-pushing, bureaucrats like you," Jonah said with contempt. The audience booed.
"I'll warn you one more time," said Judge Gallows, pointing his gavel at Jonah.
"He means it too," said the gavel.
Jonah did a double take.
"Shut up, Bigmouth," the judge yelled at his gavel.
"Mr. Hex, do you have anything at all to say in your own defense? Anything to justify your violent and anti-social behavior?" asked the prosecutor.
Jonah just glared at him and said nothing.
"No further questions your honor," said the prosecutor.
"The witness may step down," said Judge Gallows.
Jonah got up and the bailiff led him back to his seat.
"Call your next witness. Let's get this over with," Judge Gallows said to the prosecutor. Then he leaned his head on his hand like he was becoming bored with the proceedings already and wanted to move on to something more fun.
"Your honor, I'd now like to call Death to the stand," said the prosecutor, and once again, the audience became very vocal as the doors to the courtroom opened. Jonah was pretty damn curious what calling death to the stand meant, so he turned in his seat to see who had just walked in and was very surprised to see that it was the pale woman in the dark dress he had seen earlier by the roadside. In fact, he was so surprised that his mouth gaped open. The woman closed it for him as she passed by him on her way to the witness stand. Once she got there, she took her seat, elegantly, and gave the whole courtroom a smile.
The bailiff walked up to her with the bible. "Do you want to swear on this?" he asked, sheepishly.
"Sure," she said, so she did.
"Could you please state your name and occupation for the court?" was the prosecutor's first question to her after the swearing.
"Death," she responded.
"And how long have you known the defendant, Jonah Hex?"
"Same amount of time I know everyone. His whole life, so far," she said, matter-of-factly.
"I object," shouted Jonah, standing up. "I met this woman earlier today and that's the first and last time we've ever spoken."
"Sit down, Mr. Hex," said Judge Gallows. Then to Death he said, "What do you say to that?"
"It is true that that was the first time we ever met in person, but I have been a constant, yet invisible, companion to Jonah Hex for his entire life. Due to his lifestyle and occupation, I linger around him pretty much at all times," said Death.
Jonah Hex sat down, speechless. It had just dawned on him that she actually was THE death. Ordinarily, he would not believe in something so metaphysical without solid proof, but something about her made him believe it deep down in his bones.
"So you've personally witnessed him commit murder?" asked the prosecutor.
"Yes, but to be fair, everyone he's killed was supposed to die at that moment anyway," said Death.
"But does that give him the right to kill them?" the prosecutor asked, facing the audience. "Everything dies eventually, but if someone kills, it's still murder, and whether legal or not, murder is still immoral."
"We're not here to debate morality!" yelled Jonah.
"You had your turn to talk," shouted Judge Gallows at Jonah Hex. "And for your information, that is exactly what we are here to debate!"
"I thought this was a murder trial," Death said, innocently.
"It is!" yelled Judge Gallows. "It was! We know he committed murder. Many times. He's admitted that, what we are judging now is whether or not Mr. Hex is a good person or a bad person."
"This is horseshit!" yelled Jonah.
"Hush now," said Death, before the judge could.
"I object!" called a voice from the audience. Everyone turned and saw the girl with the multi-colored hair stand up on a seat.
"Just think how frustrated you'd be if there was a million centipedes and a quadrillion centipedes and all you could count was three," she said, angrily and then got a look on her face as if she had just upset herself. She sat back down, quietly.
Death looked at her, sympathetically.
Judge Gallows remained silent for a minute, as did everyone, then he collected his thoughts and said, "Listen, all of this is really just a charade. We all know how this ends; the way it always ends: in a hanging. Jonah Hex, I hereby find you guilty of being a thoroughly despicable human being and sentence you to hang by the neck until you are dead."
He banged his gavel, which laughed.
"Court is adjourned," he said, getting up and walking away from the bench.
The audience applauded.
The prosecutor sat down, self-satisfied.
Death looked sad, but unsurprised and, surprisingly enough, neither did Jonah. He just sat there, pondering, until the bailiff came and took him away to await his execution.
A short time later, Jonah Hex sat alone in a dark, cold jail cell with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He'd been trying to puzzle out in his mind what was going on, and how he had ended up in a position where he was going to be hung by the residents of a strange town called REDEMPTION after a mock trial, when all he had wanted just hours earlier was to get some rest. But every time he tried to think straight and remember events clearly he was unable to. It was as if in this place he just couldn't get a handle on things. They just sort of happened to him and in a very uncharacteristic way, he just sort of let them.
He'd been sentenced to hang before, in fact, he'd BEEN hung before and always managed to get out of it somehow. This time was different. This time Jonah felt hopeless and so was being something he never was; passive, as if he were just sleepwalking through life, waiting to wake up.
All of a sudden the wild girl with colorful hair appeared beside him. He had gotten used to her popping up out of nowhere like this and no longer questioned his sanity in regards to it, or anything else for that matter. He just looked over at her with angry eyes.
"What do you want?" he demanded. "Don't suppose you've come to bust me out of here."
"To be free of cells. To be free of atoms. It means what?" said the girl.
Jonah turned away from her nonsense and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.
"A wall is not a wall to a wall, it is the whole universe and all its pieces," she went on.
Jonah stood up, suddenly.
"Shut up!" he yelled at her and she looked surprised. "If all you can do is mumble shit, then just leave, because I'd rather have peace and quiet than your voice in my head."
"But I thought you wanted me to free you," said the girl, innocently, with almost hurt in her voice.
Jonah eyeballed the girl.
"If you're able to, then do it."
"Okay, but you have to trust me," she said. "You have to give me your entire self; heart and soul and mind."
Jonah stared at her. This was the most coherent she'd seemed since he met her and it scared him for some reason.
"No," he said, finally. "No, get out of here. I don't need you."
"But-" protested the girl, but Jonah cut her off.
"You dog me," he said. "You come around like the devil asking too high a price. I want you to get on out of here and leave me alone for good."
The girl looked sad. A single tartan colored tear ran down her cheek, then, quietly, she vanished in a puff of rocks.
Just then the jailer came to the bars of the cell.
"Jonah Hex, the hangman's ready for you," he said with a chuckle.
Jonah turned and faced the man.
"Good," he said.
The whole town came out to see the hanging, just as they had the trial. The sky was grey and overcast and promised rain. The perfect setting for such a dark event.
Jonah Hex was led, still handcuffed, out of the jail and toward the gallows by two of the men who had originally apprehended him. They walked him through the crowd, up the wooden steps of the scaffold, and over to the rope as the townspeople made an assortment of noises. Some clapped, some hooted, some hissed. Then the men left Jonah's side so that the hangman could do his job. Silently, the hooded man moved Jonah into place and then put the noose around his neck and tightened it. Jonah didn't even flinch, he just said, "Tighter," but the hangman ignored him and walked over to the lever that would release the trapdoor below Jonah's feet. He grasped it firmly with his gloved hand and then waited as Judge Gallows made his way up the steps carrying a small scroll. The judge, still dressed in his ceremonial robes, unrolled the scroll and loudly addressed the assemblage, who became quiet.
"On this day, the condemned, Jonah Hex, was found guilty of the utmost heinous of villainy and sentenced to death by hanging. Does the condemned have any last words or requests before the punishment is carried out?"
Everyone looked at Jonah.
"Yeah," he growled, "Kiss my ass."
Judge Gallows smiled.
"Executioner, you may now carry out-"
"Wait!"
Everyone turned to see Death running toward them. She held the hem of her long dress in her hands to keep from stepping on it as she quickly made her way to the gallows and addressed the judge.
"Wait. May I please have a brief word with the prisoner?" she asked.
"This is highly irregular," the judge said, angrily. "You most certainly may not."
Death became very serious all of a sudden and all politeness left her voice.
"I am Death, your master's oldest sister and my requests will not be denied in this place. Unless you think I need to bring this up with the dream lord himself?"
"No, no, no, by all means, come up," said Judge Gallows, becoming instantly contrite. He motioned for her to ascend.
She did. Then she immediately went to Jonah and took his head in her right hand. He jerked it away.
"What do you want, companion?" he said to her, Nastily.
"I couldn't let this happen without telling you something first," she said.
"Well, what is it?" asked Jonah.
"I can't say," Death said, hesitantly.
"Get out of here," Jonah said, annoyed. "Let me get this over with and die in peace."
"Look, this isn't my domain, but you're right on the brink, so that's why I'm here. I shouldn't interfere, but I just wanted to let you know... you have a choice."
"What choice?" said Jonah. "A choice of whether to hang or not? Believe me, if I did, I'd be against it."
"The only reason you're set to hang is because these... people found you guilty of being a bad man. But if you don't believe that yourself, then they have no case."
Jonah looked at her for a minute in confusion, but then looked suddenly down.
"I've killed people," he said. "Lots of people. And I've enjoyed it every time. Maybe I am a bad man, but I've always tried to do the right thing, which apparently doesn't mean shit in the grand scheme of things. Besides, it's like you said, when it's your time, it's your time. Just like those owlhoots I've killed."
"It was only their time to die, because they did die. But like you said, they made the choice to fight back, to run, to become criminals in the first place. There is destiny, but it is only found through free will and choice."
Judge Gallows tapped his foot impatiently.
Death gave him an annoyed glance and then turned back to Jonah.
"You've made yourself into an instrument of justice, but you're also a human being, which means that you are not all good or all bad. No matter what you may think of yourself or how others judge you, you have both within you, because you have a choice. So now, you have to choose. You be the judge. Do you die a bad man, or do you live to face another day?"
Lightning flashed overhead, and some thunder rolled, and maybe a little rain even began to fall, because something wet ran down Jonah's cheek. Death reached out and embraced him, pulling him close to her.
"How do I get out of this?" Jonah whispered.
"Just wake up," said Death, and she hugged him tight.
The rain started to fall hard and heavy. The crowd around the gallows began to melt and swirl together into a blur. Judge Gallows and the hangman backed away from Jonah and Death in a jerky, unnatural way. The black dress that Death wore turned to smoke, rose up, and enveloped her and Jonah in darkness.
When Jonah opened his eyes again he was still laying face down in the sand of the Red Desert. His jacket was still off and rain drops began to fleck the skin on his naked back. He turned over and looked up to see a grey, overcast sky. The oppressive desert sun could not get through the thick clouds even a small bit. Jonah stood up and felt a cool breeze blowing sand all around him, some of it sticking to the wet parts of his skin. Then there was a peal of thunder, and rain began to pour down in buckets. Jonah aimed his face at the sky and opened his mouth to take in as much fresh water as he could. It was like having a drink, a shower, and an invisible hand pick him up all in one.
After refreshing himself, Jonah took his coat off his waist and threw it on. It was going to get soaked anyway, he figured, so he might as well wear it, since it was actually a becoming a little chilly now. For a minute he stood in one place trying to remember what it was he'd been dreaming about just now, but he couldn't, so instead he looked around himself, deciding what to do next. Should he still head to the nearest town and try to follow the trail of the varmints that put him in this predicament? Or just find a nice hotel or brothel and take a few days rest?
Jonah decided on the latter, and began walking. Those men were probably long gone anyway, and he really needed some vacation time to ease his nasty temperament. After all, Jonah figured, he could always change his mind later and go after them some other time. Life was all about choices.
The End