Sound inside

The Sound Inside 9/27/19 51
I’m still struck by the ending. Christopher leaves his reader with an ellipsis;
three successive periods, composed on a manual typewriter, their
depressions rendered with an almost gentle violence, each one as perfect as a
moon.
Did he slip and fall?
Did he collapse from exhaustion?
Did some vital pinion inside him snap in half from frustration or jealousy or
endless yearning?
Or was it a matter of the heart even more treacherous than that: loneliness.
Was he drunk with the night sky? Spellbound by the infinitesimal swaying of
these ancient trees?
Or did he stage his own death?
Were there footprints?
Did this park imagine his body?
Would that be a better image?
Lights fade on BELLA.