I still remember the day I died. It was a phone call reaching out in desperation, in a voice saying, 'I can't do this anymore. I'm handing it over to you.'
At first I felt the flattering glow of self pride, the realisation that I was to become, to reach the ascension, to storm and conquer.
It was my invitation, my time even. I was given the baton, slapped into an open palm where fingers curled tightly around the offering, to be, to prove, to sort out this scourge once and for all.
'Yes', I replied. 'I will go.' I will take this to the next level. I will bring the shameful secret into the light. I will push away darkness, expose its disgraceful deeds and see strength overcome weakness.
In my adventure, my new calling, I reached in ... too deep ... and remember that that was the day I died.