“It’s one thing to know you’re going to die. It’s another thing entirely to accept it as fact and come to grips with it. It’s the same as a flower that begins to bloom. The flower knows that if it blooms, it will surely die.”

“But to express itself, to show the world what it is capable of becoming, was the flowers sole purpose for existing. The plant wants to live, even if it means death. That is what you must do, son. You must accept who you are, fully.”

“Come to grips with it as reality. It is not a reverent fantasy upon which I indulge you. You become who you think you are, and who you think you are is a great thing. Accept the responsibility you have been given, you have been granted knowledge, love, patience, understanding, and strength. It is now time for you to give it back to those who need it. Remember, I will always be with you.”

Those were the last words the old man told him.

The boy was now a man. Stoically he stood, overlooking the garden which he helped create with the old man. He had taken over the shop, which had now been transformed to accommodate the sale of medicinal mushrooms. 

Norman had long since passed, buried beneath a tree that stood in place of the fountain that once graced the front lawn of his grandmother’s house. 

He overlooked the front garden from the balcony of the room his grandparents once lived in, puffing away on his joint as his children pointed up to him.

“Mom, dads smoking again!” They shouted to his wife.

The man put his finger to his mouth in a quiet gesture.

His son stuck out his tongue.

“Hey! Respect your parents you understand?” He said firmly.

His son looked at him innocently.

“Ok.” He said.

The man stuck out his tongue back, and the boy smiled, giggling wildly as he held his stomach and fell over in a fit of laughter. 

His younger brother went over to check on him.

“Mommy, daddy’s doing magic again!” His youngest shouted to his wife.

“What are you doing?” 

He jumped when he heard his wife’s voice behind him. 

“You’re becoming very good at that.” He said lovingly.

She gave him a look of disapproval, but smiled.

“I’m just taking a break.” He said.

“How’s it coming along?” She asked him, putting her hand on his shoulder.

“Pretty good I think, I just hope my message gets across clearly is all.” He said with a sigh, “I’ve been working on it for a very long time.”

“You’ll let me read it when you’re done right?” She asked him politely.

“Of course, my love.” He said enthusiastically, “I can’t wait.”

The man kissed his wife, then went back into the room, sitting down at his desk as he opened the composition book entitled Mystic Management, and began to write.