Death Becomes His

Imagining the afterlife...

I was floating in the lake water from dawn. My eyes are wide open. I can saw the pair of joggers arrive. They were talking to themselves and walking. The lady was holding her husband’s hand. I could see them talking, and I was floating. Suddenly the lady saw me and her sharp shriek tore the environment in pieces. She was pointing at me; people from the street came to see what the matter was. Two men, brave at heart jump in the water and pulled me to the ground. I could see everything with my open eyes.

 

People crowded to see me as I lay on the ground. They were talking, gossiping; who I was, how I came there. Somebody called the police. They came, took me away on a stretcher.

 

Now, I lie in the morgue. It is dark in this room. I do not know how many hours have passed. I have a watch on my wrist, but can not lift the hand to see the time. I do not know what time it is now. Some one switched on the sodium bulb. Probably, it is evening by now as there are little insects flying around the bulb. I see them with curiosity. I count them again and again, to pass my time. This is what I used to do when I was a child. The insects used to gather around my table lamp. I would count them again and again. This was a play to me. Now, I do this even after my life ended. I try to focus on the life that I lived, how it was. No, do not remember any thing without the incidents of the insects counting. May be this is how it happens after human life is over.

 

I do not know how many hours have passed, Could not see any clock on the wall. There are two more deads in this room. But they are covered with white clothes. My waiting came to an end as the doctor came. He closed my eyes with surgical tapes. I saw his aged face before that. Now, I see no more.

Reviews

[Shoeb Karim]

chintata onnorokom. Golpotao.
erokom khub beshi lekha hoini, ami jotodur jaani.
kintu ami mone kori boyaner j shujogta toiri korechen - mrito manusher chokhe prithibi dekha - okhan theke aaro onek kichu dekhar asha toiri hoeachilo, onek kichu dekhano jeto mone holo social, philosophical, mental beparshepar r ki.
golpota niea notun kore bhabte paren, ekta master piece hote paare.

[Arielle Ann]

oh that was depressing...I felt like the dead will be trapped after death..and i thought souls were free to go anywhere :(

[sonom]

As I am the writer,according to me it is a work of an amature....