Here's a story I wrote for Rucklo's departure. It's short and sweet at 1000 words. The ending could be interpreted two different ways. I was going to go for the happy ending, but I decided to leave it open.

To the Ends of the Earth

I sat here, faced with my life well lived. I didn't always make the right choices, but in the end, I knew what was best for me. I was a well respected person, a person of authority and trust. It was with the utmost confidence that I stood at the Burleigh Cliffs with my badge, my baton, my taser and the other belongings of mine that I had stockpiled from the office. I cleared out my desk and locker this morning, and here I was, on the edge of the world, the wind blowing through my hair, not another person as far as the eye could see. There was a small fishing boat out on the horizon, but other than that, other than myself, and my car, which I took on a brutal off-road adventure, there was nothing else. I left the road long ago, and all I had with me was a box of the things that meant the most to me, and the injection of fresh adrenaline that reminded me that I was very much alive.

I sat on the rocks, my feet dangling over the edge. It was a very long drop to the jagged rocks below, waves bashing up against them, like starved, ravenous wolves snapping at the child being lowered into their cage. It wouldn't be much to just shift forward a little more and plummet into extinction. But I just sat there, with my box beside me. I picked up my files and papers, and ditched them off the cliff. They fluttered down and blew in every direction, a free form ballet into the unforgiving ocean. I had taken enough of this life, and I was willing to make a change of plans. Everything had changed in an instant, although I felt that this choice I made would be something inevitable, something I couldn't put off forever.

The baton, just an accessory. What would I want with it where I was going? I would need nothing other than a name where I was going, although, now that I come to think of it, I'd probably end up throwing that away too, and going somewhere completely different from there. My taser. I pulled it apart, and threw it to the ocean too. I could see the papers simply floating out along the ocean, out into the vast untamed blue. My passport, just another possession. I wouldn't need it to start my new life, I wouldn't need much physical distance from home to give me comfort, just a spiritual distance. And down the passport fell, down onto the rocks. I doubted that anyone would find the passport, as the thought of my family seeing a report on the news would just tear them apart, and I couldn't do that to them. It was tough enough, what I was doing now. But I continued to lay bear my soul to the ocean, the great expanse of water accepting my gifts but offering no comfort or condolence, this burden was mine to bear, and mine alone.

My shirt, my shoes, my tie, socks, belt and pants. All gifts, part of the duties of the job, maintaining image. They all fell down, more victims to the ocean, more memories I can liberate myself from. There were only a few items left in the box now, just my badge, some family photos and my gun. I picked the badge up, and, holding it in my hands, I felt an undeniable force of responsibility, power and trust. There was so much expectation to live up to, all because of the title connotative to the badge. I held the badge high behind my head, and with half a sense of sadness, and half a sense of relief, I threw with all my might, the badge that had been my life, all I had worked for, worked to obtain and maintain. A burden no longer on my shoulders, the badge soared through the sky, as if it would carry on forever, but like everything before it, the badge too sunk into the velvet blue depths.

I reached into the box, still gazing into the place where the badge broke the surface. I felt my way towards the photographs, and clenched my fist around them like a child would around its comfort toy. My parents, into the ocean, my wife and friends, into the ocean, my one and only child... into the sea. I knew it was a huge thing to give up on these people, but it was the only thing I could do, there was nothing more I could get out of that life,nothing more I wanted. And I didn't want to live the rest of my life in that same place, an empty shell, holding me back from destiny.

The breeze was beginning to pick up, and the sun had begun its descent into the night. The fishing boat had gone back, and I was entirely isolated. It was some time before I reached into the box for the last of my possessions. The gun. To serve. To protect. It had served it's purpose, and now it had a new purpose. I fired the gun several times into the sky. I squeezed the trigger for all but one. I closed my eyes, my grip on the handgun tightened for one last shot. It was the end. My gun fell into the ocean, and I sat there, waiting for my new life to begin. I would hitch a ride with a stranger, catch a train, change my name, and do everything on my terms. Hell, if it all feels right, I could do the whole police thing again, but as I've experienced, nothing is certain, only time will tell what will happen. And my past will forever more be lost in time, fallen to the depths of the ocean, far from forgotten in my mind, but void of relevance, never to be seen again...