The boulevard of the dead and other stories

The boulevard of the dead

Mrs. Virginia Dodson didn't know she had been dead for more than thirty years, so every day she repeated the same routine.

First, she would get up five minutes before her alarm clock went off to pull back the moth-eaten curtains in her apartment, absentmindedly looking around. Then, she would head off to take a shower and get ready for breakfast at the same diner she had frequented for decades. And when she finally took the last sip of her cup of coffee, she would leave a few coins as a tip and the bill, to leave quietly to walk along the boulevard, until she sat on a bench to watch the people walking in front of her. Once night fell, she would return to her apartment, check that everything was as she had left it before she left, and go to bed, waiting for daybreak.

It was clear that Virginia was content with her life, and, that was reason enough not to do anything to upset her. But that day was different: She had woken up with a strange feeling, which, told her that something wasn't right.

She hesitated a long time to get out of bed, and when she finally did, it took her even longer to pull back the curtains. But, she noticed that nothing she expected had happened. No, Virginia hadn't expected anything different to happen, she never had, so why would she now? So, she instantly calmed down, and ordered herself to continue with the rest of her plans.

But, the feeling was still there: was something different?

Before leaving, she paused to thoroughly examine that everything in her apartment was in the same order as the night before. And, after several minutes, she realized that nothing was different. On her way out, she went to the cafeteria and ordered the breakfast she was so familiar with, reassuring herself that at least that place was still the same for her. However, after a few minutes, the woman noticed that there were two people she had never seen  there.

She immediately went to her table, still feeling surprised, determined that when the waiter came to serve her, she would take the opportunity to ask him about those strangers, but she gradually realized that that day, for some reason, the waiter who knew her order was not there.But, little by little she realized that that day, for some reason, the waiter who knew her order was not there. Would that be the reason for her feeling?"That explains everything!" she thought to herself, as she sipped the last remaining drop of coffee, standing up, pleased with her quick discovery.

Then, she went to the boulevard, to continue with her routine. And, when she finally finished her tour of the place, she hurried to what she considered as "her bench", while she was about to examine the people who would pass by: In five minutes that boy with his bicycle, who always seemed to be in a hurry, would pass by, and in a few seconds that little girl holding her mother's hand, who always followed Virginia with her eyes, while she waved goodbye waving her hands, should pass by. And, it was only a matter of time before the baker would pass by, permeating the air with his cart. At any moment Mrs. Dodson could confirm that, the feeling of strangeness with which she had awakened would disappear.

Virginia was waiting patiently until she was interrupted by a voice. A little irritated at having been distracted from her usual task, she looked up to meet a man's gaze.

"May I sit down?"

Virginia reluctantly said yes.

The man waited no longer, and took a seat at the other end of the bench. At this, Virginia went back to looking carefully at her surroundings, looking for all the characters she always saw, but she couldn't help thinking that she had never seen the man on the boulevard before.

"Interesting day, isn't it?" the man exclaimed, as if reading his thoughts. "I always tell myself that every day must be interesting. However, no one knows what would happend next.... Do you come here often?"

"Yes, every day."

"I see..."

"But I've never seen you here, do you come here very seldom?" She dared to say.

"I come sometimes, yes. Because of the complicated nature of my job I keep moving from place to place, but, I like to come to the Boulevard when I find a moment. I like to see the people who are still here."

"The people who are still here? I see..." Virginia answered distractedly, as she looked around for some of the people she was waiting for. A few minutes had already passed, and none of them had come, as her watch confirmed.

"I usually like to come and wonder about people's lives: What do they do? How do they live their lives: fast or slow? Do they have dreams that drive them or nightmares that slow them down?" exclaimed the stranger, as he looked in the same direction as Virginia. "Do they know hiw they arrived here?"

"People's lives will always be a mystery."

"Maybe."

However, Virginia couldn't help but be discouraged: She didn't want to admit that she was discouraged that her routine had undergone a huge change-first the absence of the waiter, then the delay of her neighbors, and, to top it all off, the arrival of a stranger! - Until, after a few minutes, he saw that woman walking in front of them, only this time a little slower, and with her head down: She was not accompanied by her daughter's tiny hand.

"What about the girl?" Virginia asked aloud, unable to hide her surprise. "Where's she?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"That woman," she said, pointing at her, "always walks along the boulevard with a little girl, her daughter. But today she's walking alone."

"Oh yes... I guess some people stay longer on the boulevard than others."

"Really?

"Of course," answered the stranger.

Virginia nodded, trying not to get even more discouraged. And, trying not to get bored, she decided to continue talking with the stranger. After all, it seemed that neither of them would be leaving any time soon.

"And what is your job? What do you do?"

"It's a complicated and simple job at the same time: It takes me away from tradition, but it brings me closer to fear and pain at the same time."

Virginia nodded quietly, trying to remember a job that fit that description.

"My job has taught me to observe, listen and feel as if I've never done it before, you know," the stranger continued. "But, I don't usually tell many people about what I do, they might get a different idea."

"I guess people are afraid of things they can't understand," replied Virginia, shrugging her shoulders, feeling guilty deep down, since she could consider herself one.

"Although, I have discovered one of the ways to overcome fear of things."

"And what is that?"

"You must ask yourself a question."

Virginia repeated the question, now with more interest.

"What would you do differently if you already know that tomorrow you will die?"

"What would I do differently?"

"Exactly, Mrs. Dodson," exclaimed the stranger, turning to look at her, "What would you do differently if you already know you're going to die tomorrow?"

"What would you do differently? Well, I don't know. But, it's never too late to ask."

And, for the first time, she saw the man smile with pleasure. Before long, the man invited her to walk down the boulevard again, and, to her own surprise, she agreed.

"I guess you have to learn to live to learn to die."

"And have you learned to live, Mrs. Dodson?

 "I think that it's never too late to late to ask..." Virginia exclaimed to herself, as she felt the fear with which she had awakened disappear.