The old man lies on the lounger and gazes out across his gardens. He is dying. Illness sets deep roots in his body.
But he is at ease, as much as any man can be. His children are close. He is afforded every comfort. He leaves much wealth behind and a legacy any man would be proud of.
A king. He raised up cities. Left them plated with marble. Commissioned art. Fed the poor when the mood took him.
But he wonders now, as the birds sing, could he have been kinder? Could he have changed things? Was he just another rung on the ladder?
Paddy Dobson
21st September 2022