Boro woke up that late May morning amazed that nothing hurt him. His hips, knees, back, heart, and lungs were perfect. He was able to breathe with full lungs fresh morning air scented with cherries in bloom. He sat in a reclining chair in his backyard with morning coffee and newspapers lying on a small outdoor table, gulped some coffee, leant back in the chair and closed his eyes in short snooze, relieving erotic encounters from his youth. He opened his eyes, got up, warmed his coffee, made himself a grilled cheese sandwich, and opened up newspapers. What more would an old man want: beautiful day, cup of hot coffee, his favourite sandwich and newspapers. And none of these darn pains, aches, check ups, biopsies, tests and pills. A fly landed on his grilled cheese sandwich. He tried to squash the intruder with his newspaper. He missed. His back hurt, triggering a few other pains and aches to revisit him. He was again just a sickly, old man. He leant towards East, and prayed: 'Thank you God for this short, wonderful moment of happiness in my old age. Was this a pre taste of Your Heavenly Kingdom? Please Lord; grant me more of these pain free, bright and happy days.' Will the Lord grant Boro's prayer before he reaches Journey's End Valley?