Saturday, August 30, 2014

Afterlife

I had the same family but I also had a son. Or maybe my daughter was a son. Some Indian neighbours dropped by to visit, ostensibly to connect our two young boys. More and more of them came in and soon, it was a party atmosphere. From the onset, I had felt that connecting the two boys was a ploy and that really, the mother wanted to speak with me. I was not at all surprised when she took me aside and warned me of our imminent death. They left. We got into our vehicle for what Rob and I knew was our last trip. Our daughter had returned to her gender at this point and we protected her from what we knew was to happen. We had many near accidents along the way and braced ourselves each time. At one point, I don't recall how it happened, we ended up in a large, compacting disposal skip--like at a scrap yard. Rob and I thought, "This is it," but we told Lexie that the sensors would surely recognise that we were people and would stop the machinery. Strangely enough, this is what happened. Some men did help us out and we made it to our destination. When we got there, people were so welcoming and warm. I began to notice that the sun did not set but followed us in the sky wherever we went. Finally, I accepted that we were dead. The people who had helped us out of the skip must have been paramedics removing our bodies. The machinery I had glanced outside the skip must have been stretchers. But, I had felt no break in continuity from life to death. No pain. No loss of consciousness. During our stay at that place with the warm reception, we had occasional visitors. Rob's good friend Dave would stop by. I guess he would dream of him or visit him in a quiet moment. We began to forget details of living. You have to realise that this entirely opposed to everything I've ever believed about death. I don't believe in an afterlife and certainly not one that masquerades as a holiday camp. I believe that when one dies, one's energy returns to the universe. This was so strange and yet, as dreams tend to be, so very real.

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Kato: December 27, 2007 - August 7, 2014

It's too late to be awake dearest but when I close my eyes pictures of you roll down my face. It's too late for I'm sorry, I did my best. It's too late for 'could I have done more?' Clickety clackety, jingle jangle, flip and flop. It's too late for your lovely sounds. It's late now. Sleep and return from whence you came.

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Doppelgänger

Today I caught a glimpse of someone I once knew. I sucked in my breath at the similarity and the weight of those few fleeting seconds. Then my heart shattered again. And again. And again.