The End There's not much that I don't know; I know the names of all the people, dead and alive, I can tell you which plants can heal which illness, and I can recite every book ever written. So when one drizzly afternoon a young boy enters my shop I was startled when I couldn't think of a single thing about him. I gazed around the room and my favourite lines if every book I can see come into my head, where all the furniture was made and by who, I can see it all clearly. Watching the boy is a strange sensation. All my #life my head has been full, but now it's like someone muted my brain. I feel wonderful. I feel free. As I'm about to stand to thank this boy he looks up. 'This can't be true' I tell my self 'I should have seen this coming.' He starts to walk over, the closer he comes the more I fill with dread. I no longer feel wonderful nor free, I feel trapped. Swinging my head side to side, my eyes search for an exit. There is none, I've trapped myself behind my desk. His eyes grow darker as he approaches, his expression apologetic. "I'm so sorry. I'm only doing my job you see. There was no way you could have know, it's just the way it has to be." His voice is soft, much like the one you would use to calm a frightened animal. I guess that is what I am to him, that is what we all must be like in the end. Frightened animals who get taken away. These not that much that I didn't know, except how it ends.