The contest

Feeling weary. The only contest left is to get life. How does one get life when death is at the door waiting to take the few breaths that are left. Kurt is dead. He was the athlete who seemed to invite winning and natural gifts. What are mine. Do I have any. I can still breathe maybe that has to be enough. The breath is the fingerprint, the soul of what makes me who I am and even if it seems trifled and meaningless. God sees it as reason enough to give me life and purpose, opportunity to love. I guess that will have to be enough.