A Penny For My Thoughts ~ phan

II

Dan

Yep. As it turns out, I am deceased. Literally.

It's strange. Though I constantly joked about one more year of life lost with every evening of pizza with extra meat and nothing but internet until the sun came up, I wasn't expecting twenty-five to be my last year of life on earth. Now, all there is is the afterlife on earth, which I'm already starting to realize is a lot less satisfying.

I figured I would at least be retired by the time I became a ghost. The touch of my spouse upon my barely functional hand would lull me into the sleep I desired, my twig-like bones melting into the right arm chair of a matching set. He, she, or otherwise would sit quietly at my funeral while a broken piano melody trailed along my wedding vows through their brain. They always managed to stay composed, looking for short term relief to ward off the doubt just for a little while. But with the disappearance of a lifetime love, the only thing that would make sense anymore was misery. Pure, untouched misery that wouldn't hesitate to give them all it got.

Then, the very next day, or perhaps longer, they would find me sitting in that same armchair and wonder if it's not just old age deterring their sanity. I would reassure them that what they were seeing was very real as I stroked their face and shivered with the rush of a tear passing through my thumb. From then on out, I would spend all of time at home with them, only them. We wouldn't understand each other in quite the same way as before but nothing would ever motivate me to fade away. On my mind there would only be how magical the circle of life truly is, how privileged I was to have been found by my soulmate and the question of why I was ever tempted by sleep. Throughout death I would move with eyes wide open.

I didn't think I would be young enough to have so many questions. At this point, I barely understand life let alone death. And I guess I never will.

The one thing I do understand is that the last twenty-four hours are all a blur. That is, if it even has been twenty-four hours. I'm not nearly adjusted enough to my new form to be able to do the routine task of picking up my phone and checking the date. The best I can do is use it for a quick peek at my reflection. My calendar is basically useless since no living person has been around to cross off the days for me. The temperature could be below zero or above 1,000 for all my nerveless body knows, but at least the grass is as brown as I left it on March 13th. That provides me with some form of comfort, distracting me from the possibility of it being the March 13th of a whole nother year.

Then again, it appears that everything in my house is just as I left it. The milk doesn't look spoiled, there aren't hordes of bugs anywhere and my body is nowhere to be seen. I must've died somewhere else. But where? And why have I woken up here?

How did I die? Was I texting while crossing the street? That's probably the most likely reason. Was I trapped in a burning building? Did someone murder me?

No. I refuse to believe someone willingly took my life. Not once have I done something remotely bad enough for karma to strike so mercilessly. However, if it wasn't karma, it was fate. Either way, the universe was sick of me.

I guess that means we're on the same page.