Under the rushing stream of gushing water going down to his basement home, Gassett was swept down the stairs. The door was open from the run of rapidly rising water and he turned about the room like a rag doll until he finally found his comfy chair and sat clutching the armrests. Gassett was scared, his heart beating out of his chest.

The deeper water waited outside atop the stone stairs. Unable to hold itself any longer, the deeper water was like the motor of the hurricane, the voice of the chaotic machine, the frenzy behind the whole storm – it could not wait any longer. Gassett held steady, the best he could, although he was in pain, and scared. He held his ground. Finally, the storm of Gassett’s dreads and dreams reached its long arm into his tiny one room apartment. The hand fit through the door and filled the room, untiringly tipping Gassett off the chair. It tossed him against the wall, knocking him about and leaving his body to sink and float, roll and twist, grabbing Gassett’s life away from him rather easily. Then there was perfection. Silence everywhere. In itself, it filled up his heart warmly, a heart no longer desolate.

The water was, despite its murky haze, quite beautiful. It was gray in the top few feet, clear, with an aquamarine glow just under the white salty webs. The unruly seawater rushed about in a kneading motion as it filled up the tiny room in a uniform mass, and invaded the entire shape with its molecules. Gassett floated about the room like a fish in an aquarium. Van Gogh’s brush could not have done this scene justice. Released from the confines of his own enormity and the chains the Earth found to bind him with, this being, this ending, held more beauty than the human eye could ever behold.

Once there was a mouse that entered the apartment from the crack under the front door, and tittered quietly by Gassett one night. Gassett recognized it as a monastery mouse, one that goes about blissfully until it meets Georgia Brown waiting for him in the corner. And yes, Georgia played with the poor mouse while Gassett watched. During the moments where Georgia had her final play and dug in her fatal bite, the mouse looked up at Gassett and sighed, “Changes, changes.” And that’s what Gassett thought while the chair spun around and eventually sank into the cold black water, changes, changes.