Expiry Date

The End.

Today was the end, my end. I have feared the arrival of this day since the moment I said hello to the gushing light...anticipated and awaited the day I would have to say goodbye to such beauty, and hello to such menace. Today was that day.

Wednesday 7th January, 2028. 24 years, 1269 weeks, 8888 days – including 6 leap days – and 23 elaborate Christmases old.

Ironically, today was my 24th birthday. And also, my 1st death day. Happy fucking birthday.

I got up as normal, boiled the kettle, poured the kettle, added a teabag, two narcotic squares and a drop of something special before sipping until the mug was half empty. My lips were chapped, dry from the 791 cigarettes I'd smoked in my lifetime. One more wouldn't kill me. 792.

Who knows what would kill me today? There are infinite possibilities. Car, gun, knife, bomb, peanut butter, flying fish, smoking – the list goes on and on and on.

Since day 1, I've known today I'd face death. The barcode on my left calf told me as much. 070128. Big, bold and very real.

I got changed. Black and basic – at least I would be in appropriate attire for my funeral, right?

I grabbed my bag, also black, and went to leave my apartment. I hesitated, letting my eyes flutter over all the second hand furniture, unfinished essays, unwashed plates and treasured memories. 'Goodbye', I choked, and painfully closed the door behind me.

The street was busy - commuters on their way to work; children on their way to school; couples on their way to breakfast. I could see expiry dates sticking out from under women's skirts and dresses, overlaid with designer coats and bags and tights – but still subsequently prominent.

I lived my last day as I imagined. Errands, goodbyes, smoking and of course, another tasteless tea! I found a café hidden in the midst of the electric city and draped a dark, ebony curtain over its radiating presence. Day turned into night, and with this unorthodox change, came a bigger burden upon all whom knew my fate.

Before I knew it, time had passed. The café hadn't been robbed by an armed crook, my tea wasn't the peanut swirl delight – extra nuts – and no car had come crashing through the stained glass; a considerably anti-climactic afternoon.

8pm. 4 hours left.

I escaped to the park next. The park where I had my first kiss and danced in the rain. I sat on the bench I'd claimed as my own, my personal therapist whenever I was sad, lonely or dying. Tonight, an icy shadow passed over my special sanctuary, causing the slabs of wood to mirror that of a ladder on the dim pavement...one turn clockwise and it would become my ladder down to hell. We spoke for hours, above the devil's playground, until finally, it was nearly over.

11pm. 1 hour left – and still no geese had attacked me from the frozen pond.

I joined the long line of exhausted, depressed and expired workers in the subway. My train was delayed, another late birthday gift.

11.36pm. My train arrives.

11.45pm. My train shudders.

11.50pm. My train stops.

11.54pm. My breath quickens.

11.55pm. My heart contracts.

11.56pm. My body tremors.

'Can we stop for a minute? Just one more minute...'

11.57pm. The lights go out.

8888 days. 11.58pm. 800 cigarettes. 11.59pm. 728 half empty cups of tea. 12.00pm.

Thursday, 8th January 2028.

1 day past my expiry date.