Constant judgment of the everyday. He was no better. Nor would he hide from it. Whatever was before him, he would, willingly or unwillingly, face. As there was no alternative. Until one came.

Shoe em in, boys.

That sort of command perhaps past. In this part of the world. Though he not one to say what echoed or might echo through the culture.

Whatever that was.

Something with TV and other things as well.

Artifact.

As the dead man's house.

With the dead man's rooms.

Box em up and ship all the once possessed, all the now nothings, to somebody else who will look upon them.

As what? Inheritance? Artifact?

An artifact could be valued in different ways.

As could, perhaps, the head of a flower.