By Opposing, End Them

Epilogue

     I stepped down from the Presidency many years ago. After ten years in office, I relinquished my chair. A representative from the European district, a man by the name of Titus Devori, was elected to fill my chair. I was pleased with the work he did while in office, and I am pleased with the work the others have done in their turn.

     Aurelia and I had two children together, a son and a daughter. Both are making very good names for themselves in their fields—Ben in acting, and Maria in computer design. I am delighted that they did not choose to go into politics; I feared that the temptation of using my name to their advantage would have been too great for either of them. The world only needed one of me.

     I am now a very old man. Ben gave me my first grandchild many years ago, and now his eldest is engaged to be married. Maria's children are not much younger. I am happy for all of them.

     I walk slowly along a quiet beach. The sun has just risen. It is a beautiful morning. I walk in solitude; no one will be here for a few hours yet. I am in no particular hurry.

     Suddenly I notice a glinting in the sand. I bend over slowly to get a better look at it. A piece of glass lies in the sand. I pick it up.

     It is a piece of white glass, clouded and smoothed through years of being in the water. It sparkles in the morning light. I wonder how long it was in the water. Was it there when I was first elected President? Was it carelessly tossed in the water on the day that I was sent here? I marvel at its quiet beauty. I place it gently in my pocket and look out into the calmly stirring water.

     All that I hear is the soft lapping of waves on the shore. I smile warmly.

     I may never know what force brought me here, but I do not need to.

     I am at peace. I am content.

     I am home.