Saturday, October 20, 2007

LATE NIGHT WORD PLAY

Hard day, for no reason in particular, Justine thought as she readied for bed and changed clothes. She was tense, agitated and fidgeted circles in the carpet with her toes. The clock informed her that it was late and she should be getting on with the act of going to bed. And yet she still persisted in being awake.

The day had started out early and bright. An unexpected day off from working that she would use to complete various errands that seemed to never make it off the to-do list. By noon she had knocked most of them out. After lunch she briefly napped on the couch and woke up in her current agitated state. Again this was for no particular reason.

Perhaps it was the nap (she didn't take naps) that caused her uneasiness. Maybe it was her sixth sense working over time trying to warn her. Justine would never know. After shopping to quell her nerves, she was killed. A routine traffic accident that went (for her) terribly awry. However Justine went on unaware of her recent demise and continued to fight cross town traffic. She neglected to notice that she went on without her car. Funny things happen when you die.

She arrived for dinner with her oldest friend, only to find that she wasn't home. Justine slid back the window that never latched and let herself inside. Presently her friend arrived home talking on her mobile phone. She largely ignored Justine (which miffed Justine to no end, after all that traffic), while the dog nosed circles around her feet and whined. "Hey, Rufus. Stop." Only he didn't stop, he peed. That was when it began to dawn on Justine that all was not right with her world. She couldn't smell the dog pee even though she was standing in it.

Now that is no way to begin to realize you are dead. Via dog pee. Most people see their body and once recovered from the shock, are painfully aware their time on Earth is over. Quickly they ready themselves for the journey upstairs (hell by the way is a myth, while heaven, rest assured is not). Justine's journey would not be so easy. She passed out in the little puddle of dog pee.

Much later she awoke on the couch at her apartment. It was dark and even tough she had just slept most of the day, she decided to get ready for bed. That dream had really done a number on her brain. Only you and I know that what she perceived as a dream, sadly is not. Poor Justine, the dead cannot sleep. They can loose consciousness from shock or fright, but they cannot lay down and peacefully drift off to dream land. They cannot in fact dream either.

Caught between reality and what comes next is how Justine came to be pushing circles in the rug with her toe.

* someone should not be allowed to publish her late night creative writing ramblings...

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