Tuesday, September 9, 2014

The Smell of Death

It’s about midday. I have no watch; no need for one. My mind is as good as a China watch these days. The door to my room opens. Someone enters and distracts my racing mind. I’m now sure its midday because that’s when the first visitor of the lunch hour comes in. I turn around to face the door and there stands a familiar face. I can see it’s a lady but I can’t tell who she is. She is standing there looking at me with glowing eyes and flashing an angelic smile; so warm and wide that it can save a dying soul… well, except mine. She’s holding a bouquet of flowers with a card attached on it. She walks over to my death bed and takes a seat right next to it. She places the flowers on the table.