Darling,
The first memory of my new life began exactly a day into my departure from all earthly connection. Here I was, on my back looking at the darkness within the constraints of a coffin. I wanted to scratch my head out of habit and found it so easy to reach through the wooden walls and surrounding earth and reach my balding head. As always, a solution to the situation did not arrive magically upon titillating my receding hairline.
That's when I heard someone call my name in a voice which will never win applause in a reality show. I stood and looked up at a man, thin of stature. His remarkably leathery face broke into a grin as he saw my head poking out of the pit. I reluctantly took his offered hand and proceeded to climb out from the depressing cavity for the dead.
My new pal from the netherworld shook my hand vigorously and introduced himself, Jim Creeper. It was difficult for me to catch his name through his rasp. ‘Funny name’ I thought as he produced a bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label from his pocket followed by two glasses, a two liter bottle of soda and a party pack of chips. I decided I like this guy. I mean, what better welcome can one ask for? Some ice would have been nice but old Mr. Creeper must have been reading my mind because he said where he comes from, ice doesn't exist. Must be one of those countries equator was pinned on, I reasoned with self.
We sat down right there and while the bottle drained, I regaled him with the story of my life. Mr. Creeper, Jim now after boozy familiarity shot down the last peg and stood up all business like. He helped me up to my unsteady feet and said he has to grant me entry now. He quelled my homophobia by saying he's going to ask me a question; if the answer is correct, I get to go to heaven. If not, I will go to hell.
Jim smiled and asked his question for which the prize was prime afterlife real estate. "What is big and cold throughout its life and opens only to spew fire on a poor soul?"
Darling, If I hadn’t been dead, my brain would have supplied me with the answer, but I was dead and I blurted out the closest thing that popped up in my mind. Your name.
The first memory of my new life began exactly a day into my departure from all earthly connection. Here I was, on my back looking at the darkness within the constraints of a coffin. I wanted to scratch my head out of habit and found it so easy to reach through the wooden walls and surrounding earth and reach my balding head. As always, a solution to the situation did not arrive magically upon titillating my receding hairline.
That's when I heard someone call my name in a voice which will never win applause in a reality show. I stood and looked up at a man, thin of stature. His remarkably leathery face broke into a grin as he saw my head poking out of the pit. I reluctantly took his offered hand and proceeded to climb out from the depressing cavity for the dead.
My new pal from the netherworld shook my hand vigorously and introduced himself, Jim Creeper. It was difficult for me to catch his name through his rasp. ‘Funny name’ I thought as he produced a bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label from his pocket followed by two glasses, a two liter bottle of soda and a party pack of chips. I decided I like this guy. I mean, what better welcome can one ask for? Some ice would have been nice but old Mr. Creeper must have been reading my mind because he said where he comes from, ice doesn't exist. Must be one of those countries equator was pinned on, I reasoned with self.
We sat down right there and while the bottle drained, I regaled him with the story of my life. Mr. Creeper, Jim now after boozy familiarity shot down the last peg and stood up all business like. He helped me up to my unsteady feet and said he has to grant me entry now. He quelled my homophobia by saying he's going to ask me a question; if the answer is correct, I get to go to heaven. If not, I will go to hell.
Jim smiled and asked his question for which the prize was prime afterlife real estate. "What is big and cold throughout its life and opens only to spew fire on a poor soul?"
Darling, If I hadn’t been dead, my brain would have supplied me with the answer, but I was dead and I blurted out the closest thing that popped up in my mind. Your name.
Silence enveloped us till
Jim rocked the cemetery with his laughter. He was bent up in laughter till he
rolled in the mud. Then he got up, wiped his tears off and said. Go home son,
go home. I found that answer so funny that I am gifting your life back.
In a flash, I was back in
my body and standing here. And that’s why I am back at this time drunk as a
skunk.
Darling please let me in.
Darling please let me in.
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