It’s a chilly winter morning. I can’t feel anything, but that must be because I’m dead. I know this because I see the people wearing black cardigans and sweaters. Some are even wearing black long coats. It’s all black. I told them not to make it all black, but who ever listened to me? Oh well, can’t help it now.
I had a list of how I wanted my funeral to be. I specifically mentioned NO black and NO tears. I also said they should play good music, my music. Instead all I can see is black and tears and all I can hear is the sad melancholy tune of the church choir. Its a sad sight, but I guess that’s how funerals are supposed to be. If I were there I would want someone to kill me, but no one would have. Guess it’s best I did it myself.
I’m floating near a tree, quite far away from the actual ceremony. I wonder if people can see me, but I doubt they can. All people are doing is going to my casket and whispering. I’m curious to know what they might be saying, so I float over there and listen to people speak to my dead body. It’s not eavesdropping, they are talking to me after all. Continue reading “I Died To Live”