The Final Page (bp coyle)

Well, I finally did it. I finished War and Peace!

I first tried to read it when I was sixteen. I only managed ten pages back then. I guess I was always a little over ambitious. Now, at my fifth attempt, I’ve succeeded. It’s only taken sixty three years.

As the doctors don’t reckon I’ll last much longer, and as these bloody meds make it so hard to concentrate, I guess that will be the last book I will ever read.

Talk about going out on a high note!

If I was being totally honest, I’d have to admit that I didn’t enjoy it all that much. It was a hell of a chore. I’m not sure I even understood it. In fact, I’m quite sure I didn’t. All of those character names get so confusing.

I suppose I should have chosen something I knew I would enjoy. Something easy perhaps. Something by King or Grisham. Maybe even an Anne Rice, a guilty pleasure of mine. One of her more risqué ones.

Anyway, it’s done now. Like everything else. No point in regrets.

I made it to the final page, and that’s all that matters to me.

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