The Randomness of Life Chapter 39~ for A Little Drabble Do Ya, Wednesday drab challenge Section VIIh

[mlaw]

 No April story this week. So am posting a fic from my continuing drabble series, 'The Randomness of Life', based on lines from a randomly selected poem...

   Prompted by: The Last Supper ~Rainer Maria Rilke

The loneliness of old comes over him

There are times that I wonder about Alexander Waverly. The man never sleeps, never misses a trick. He is always the sly one, clever in his plans and strategies.

He's getting up there in years, and I hope that I'll live long enough to be half the man he is.

.

and (like a shot that scatters birds from trees)

His is a name that strikes fear into the hearts of our enemies, yet to look at him; he seems the kindest, most gentle spoken of men...a grandfatherly type.

But there are those who know that within beats the heart of a fierce lion waiting to quickly...unmercifully strike.

.

everywhere like an all-pervading twilight-hour.

He watches over us, his agents like a sentinel. And the weight, I know, of sometimes sending people to an untimely death weighs heavily upon his shoulders.

I wonder, will I be able to fill those shoes someday? Will I be deserving of the title,

"The Old Man"