His voice was an echo, as though his final words were aligned with the universe in a totally absolute verdict. Final in all senses, he spoke: “you played a decent game, and though you lack natural brilliance, you played well. However now the game has come to an end, and there can be only one victor, as you well know. I know in your eyes that you see what will happen, and I give you the choice of whether or not you will take your last move.”

As I sat across the table from my opponent I thought back to the first move of our game. He had made it decisively, knowing full well from the beginning that he would win. I had played the second, knowing full well I would lose, but with earnest conviction.

Now, though, I wasn't entirely sure that my loss was worth it. I had become acquainted with my opponent as the clock had run through the game, always favoring my opponent. I could think things through, spend the last of my time to try and change the inevitable, or simply let it run out and enjoy the minutes. Or perhaps there was still a victory to be had, a victory over my true opponent.

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As I spoke my response, I carefully ran my fingers along the top of the smooth wooden game piece that I would define myself with.

“I do not need the time, I have little to spare regardless. All I have is my decision. And I decide to lose on my own terms. I resign.”

In conjunction with my loss I tipped the wooden figure over and watched it come to a still laying state after a series of quiet bounces on the board. It disrupted no other element. No sooner did the piece come to a standstill than my world began to move around me as I crumpled and fell back in my seat. The axis of my vision tilted heavenward as I declared my victory over my opponent, over death. I had removed his satisfaction, his purpose, and in so doing I had become death.

And as my last breath escaped my lips, I whispered my farewell through my contempt of my life.

"It's about time."