And the Door closes.
By Gumnut
15 Jun 2004

Silence.

The echoes of empty rooms.

Fading memories, forgotten times. A smile that has lost its face. A ballad lacking words, and notes without an instrument.

Photographs, artifacts of a time past, of a different man long gone, eroded away by life.

Jack O’Neill thumbed the treads of the wheelchair, turning it slowly so that his back was on it all. An errant finger trailed through his scruffy grey beard as his daughter determinedly caught the handles and propelled him through the door of his home for the last time.

The door closed with a click on a time that would never come again.

And Jack turned to Thor and said, “I’m ready.”

**********
FIN.