Owl+Creek+Bridge

As Farquar plummeted towards sure death, he suddenly came to know the devastating feeling of losing everything that he held dear in life in a moment. He thought of his wife and his children and the eternal joy they brought him at home, and just like that, the war he so supported in the past seemed so insignificant in his last moment of life. The love that he had taken for granted from his family utterly overwhelmed any importance the war had held in his heart; in fact, he abhorred the war for leading him away from the treasure he had already possessed and himself for throwing his life away for something other than his loved ones. How he longed to enlighten his wife of his present reverence of her incomparable beauty and compassion and his children of his ineffable pride concerning their development into honorable adults! Nevertheless, current circumstances denied him the indulgence of embodying the bliss they brought him into words and, instead, left him desolate and worst of all, alone.

Peyton Farquar’s neck broke right near its connection to his head, and a moment later, his conscience of his surroundings vanished like an extinguished fire. Death had embraced him, and his existence as a living being ended with the resounding crack of a tautening rope. His wife and children never knew of his last thoughts of them and only grasped that he proudly became a martyr for the Confederate cause, unaware of his massive regrets of his decision. In a way, it was better for him to remain unacquainted with the grief that caught up with his family, for if he knew of their despair, he would’ve desired things unimaginably worse than hell for himself in response to his inability to alleviate them from the pain he had caused. Love can bring out the best in life, but if left until the end, it can destroy a man like it did to Farquar.