Frustrated, annoyed, and frankly just ticked off, you grab a can of soda and your sister's bar of chocolate and sit down at the table. Suddenly a thought hits you like a bottle of magic juice. You wonder what eating a whole cake by yourself would be like. Wow, grapes are really good. Where did your sister put that load of laundry? Your lucky video games were in there! Tango... that's a funny word. Why would you say a word like Yankee? WHY? Grapes. Cake. Pants. Fezzes. Bow ties. What was that movie you were going to watch tomorrow night? What's that knocking noise coming from the door?
You get up and go to the front door and open it.
"Hello Mister, how may I help you?" you ask politely.
He is tall and wears a long black robe with a hood that covers his white face in shadows.
He pulls out a watch and watches it, you watch it too.
It counts down to zero and when it gets to zero a wonderful feeling comes over your body. It feels like you are floating through the ocean with little pink seahorses swimming all around you. You are lying on the ground now, but it feels like a soft feather bed. And suddenly you are standing up again. You feel so amazing and free.
"Hello Mister, how may I help you?" you ask politely.
"Well that's number 459800," he says to no one in particular. Then he turns around and leaves, typing into a cellphone, his boney fingers clacking along the screen.
You are still floating and you turn around, gazing down at your supine body. It looks rather pale. And suddenly another thought hits you...Oh, so this is what death feels like.
You get up and go to the front door and open it.
"Hello Mister, how may I help you?" you ask politely.
He is tall and wears a long black robe with a hood that covers his white face in shadows.
He pulls out a watch and watches it, you watch it too.
It counts down to zero and when it gets to zero a wonderful feeling comes over your body. It feels like you are floating through the ocean with little pink seahorses swimming all around you. You are lying on the ground now, but it feels like a soft feather bed. And suddenly you are standing up again. You feel so amazing and free.
"Hello Mister, how may I help you?" you ask politely.
"Well that's number 459800," he says to no one in particular. Then he turns around and leaves, typing into a cellphone, his boney fingers clacking along the screen.
You are still floating and you turn around, gazing down at your supine body. It looks rather pale. And suddenly another thought hits you...Oh, so this is what death feels like.
Fin
- A. Oswald
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