There is no question that I am fragile. I make no effort to hide it. A slight chill, damp clothes, a little smoke in the air, insufficient whiskey to hand, exertion at the wrong hour - any of these can so affect me that I am unable
to rise from my bed, sometimes for days. I feel
stiff. I feel
brittle. My strength is that of a child, and my stamina is laughingly less. If I am assaulted I will fall, and I will break, because I stand by will alone. Often I use a cane, not because my legs are more weak than my body, but because it allows me a second of rest as I pause, leaning on it for support with each step. Incredibly, there are yet those so devoid of courage, honour or pride that they would
assault me, even frail as I am. I deal with this as best I can. I maintain alertness and thought, and work hard that I might protect myself, even in this state. Awareness and guns and knives serve me. There is no shame in my frailty. I make no apology for my lack of capacity for physical work. It is courteous, of course, to express regret, should my infirmity prevent me from fulfilling appearances or pleasures, but there is no shame. If there is need I shall stand to order however, no matter how
I am. It is the strange thing about dying - it throws need into a different perspective. It is my responsibility to determine it, but I can cast aside my own need for a higher one of a person more alive - more, not just needing
, but needed
. It is true I feel some sadness for my body, for I was once handsome, though I say it myself. That, however, is mere aesthetics and I have burdened no one with its form or... gruesomeness. Phenomenal strength of heart and mind allow me to be functional and... valuable, despite my fragility. Though I say that, too. It is a reality that overshadows much, and may not be left or forgotten even for a moment. It causes me to walk as a dead man, only coincidentally animate.Name: John H. Holliday, DDS.
Word Count: 367
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Nulli Virtute Secundus