Point of View
Maglor sat on his bed in the dim room.
It was early morning, and he had not yet opened the curtains, making the little room feel like some large and over-heated shadow.
He sighed softly to himself as he heard a car alarm go off in the distance, slowly rolling up the denim of his jeans to get at a long pale leg.
He took the plastic bottle of moisturizing lotion from his windowsill, pumping a little puddle of the fragrant stuff into the palm of his outstretched hand.
"I wonder," he mused to himself as he worked the lotion over his legs, dark strands of hair from yesterday's messy ponytail he had forgotten to undo falling before his eyes, "that although these humans do so much to themselves-lotion, showers, soap, toothpaste, doctors, surgeons, vaccinations-somehow they still die, every one of them."
He took a quick drink from the bottle of water on his second-hand bedside-table before rubbing the lotion over his face and arms.
"I wonder why they spend all their time taking care of themselves so meticulously, so expensively, so completely, in the hope of immortality, even though they know in their hearts that nothing can stop the gift of Iluvatar."
He rose, pulling out the threadbare hair-tie and walking over to the window, pulling open the curtain and watching the bustling city waking up and going about its business as he slowly worked the comb through his tangled hair.
"I wonder why they are so afraid of their mortality, why they deny it, avoid it, spend all of their preciously short lives trying to stop it, when I would do anything if I could only possess that gift."
It has always been my belief that Maglor did not drown himself in the sea with the Silmaril, that instead, as was Tolkien's other idea, he threw it in and wandered the shores forever, and that he is still here to this day...somewhere...:D Hence this drabble, where he is living in an apartment in some modern-day city, discovering the comforts of moisturizing lotion and talking to himself. ;)
Please review! Thanks for reading!