**Birds circled overhead, denoting the finality of Elmer’s last miserable exhalation. However, even once the lungs stopped sucking and the blood coagulated in his veins, he still stared skyward with dry redend eyes at the birds that signified death descending slowly upon him. He felt the wind, he felt the sun. He felt the ants marching over him, and the flies nesting in his mouth. He felt all of this, and yet he felt peace roaring loudest of all amongst all other sensations. **

**He felt no pain, he felt no shame or indignity. He felt no sorrow, no joy, just the sun and the embrace of all the life he had ignored prior to this moment, comforting his final rest. The sun began to set, so the birds landed to grab a bite and have a peck. They took his eyes, tongue, and teeth, and yet Elmer only felt relief. He did not cease to see, taste, or talk, but not much changed without air to speak, bread to chew, or wine to drink. Still, Elmer had no complaints. **

**The sky was a mix of orange, purple, blue, and pink. No more need to count the days, he couldn’t care less that he’d start to stink. But to his nose, he only smelled flowers whose colors matched the sky at that moment, and ones he knew would grow from the sand a few months after he became a permanent fixture, just as a rock or a tree. Wind no longer chilled him, nor rain; they were the only things that caressed him and washed him of pain. **

**As the night finished setting up shop, and the stars were the only things resting atop, good old Elmer stood up and away he flew, and where he went, God only knew. As for Elmer’s body now vacant of soul, a patch of flowers bloomed vibrant and full. But to John, it was just one less cowboy after his bounty.**