Today, I almost died. Now I will write as if I were dead and able to articulate my thoughts-
My corporeal body lies on the cold ground, half tucked beneath the front of a medium-sized sedan. I am above myself, staring down at the scene. I notice the sunlight streaming down, warming my already cooling limbs for the last time. I’ve never thought about the last time I’d feel the sun. And if I were to have imagined such a last experience, it wouldn’t have taken place on a regular Monday morning while crossing the street, a car turning too fast into my path, the driver unfocused and unseeing. I dread that this last bit of sunshine, this last bit of warmth ripped away from me, taken.
All I had wanted was a standing table at the coffee shop on the corner. There were seven seconds left on the street light, giving pedestrians the right of way, and I quickly took my chance upon seeing an available table through the large floor-to-ceiling windows that span the entire building. And then the car came and so did the end. Death is sad, but also boring. I had so much to do, to see, to experience, and now there is nothing.
I think about what I will miss most. I will miss my partner and the way we’d laugh wholeheartedly together. I’d miss the sky and all of the mysteries it holds. I’d miss the smell of books, of old pages, of wet dog and clean dog, and everything in between. I’d miss all of the senses. Taste, Touch, Sight, Hearing, Smell. I’d miss all of the people special to me, and all of the ones who could have been. I’d miss seeing the wagging tails of happy dogs and the sounds and vibrations of a purring, happy cat.
My corporeal body lies on the cold ground, half tucked beneath the front of a medium-sized sedan. I am above myself, staring down at the scene. I notice the sunlight streaming down, warming my already cooling limbs for the last time. I’ve never thought about the last time I’d feel the sun. And if I were to have imagined such a last experience, it wouldn’t have taken place on a regular Monday morning while crossing the street, a car turning too fast into my path, the driver unfocused and unseeing. I dread that this last bit of sunshine, this last bit of warmth ripped away from me, taken.
All I had wanted was a standing table at the coffee shop on the corner. There were seven seconds left on the street light, giving pedestrians the right of way, and I quickly took my chance upon seeing an available table through the large floor-to-ceiling windows that span the entire building. And then the car came and so did the end. Death is sad, but also boring. I had so much to do, to see, to experience, and now there is nothing.
I think about what I will miss most. I will miss my partner and the way we’d laugh wholeheartedly together. I’d miss the sky and all of the mysteries it holds. I’d miss the smell of books, of old pages, of wet dog and clean dog, and everything in between. I’d miss all of the senses. Taste, Touch, Sight, Hearing, Smell. I’d miss all of the people special to me, and all of the ones who could have been. I’d miss seeing the wagging tails of happy dogs and the sounds and vibrations of a purring, happy cat.
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