Jar of Hearts: An Anthology

Perhaps

"Perhaps, I am something else," Death said to the Wind, his eyes never leaving the withering sunflower between his fingers. "As I ruin everything I touch."

The Wind asked, "Why do you think that, Death?"

A sad smile graced his lips. "I am convinced that Death is not my name. For dying brings peace, does it not?" he queried. "And whatever peace is, I fear this is not it, Wind."

"Who are you, then, Death?" Wind whispered as she gently blew the petals off of the flower into the cold autumn night. "What should I call you?"

Gazing into the distance, Death let the denuded stalk fall to the ground, the smile on his face disappearing. "Perhaps, I am Ruination."

"Ruination?"

A pause. And then a breath.

"Yes, Wind. You may call me Ruination," he answered her. "For I destroy anything that dared come near, even if I only ever wanted to hold them close."

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