When the time comes for you to board death’s shifty raft of mirror shards and plastic coffee cups, I hope you’re ready. I hope you’ve made peace with everyone you’ve ever done wrong and you feel no more use for pencils and your robe is warm and dry and nothing obstructs your view of the void. When the moment arrives I hope you pass through the membrane that separates this world from the next whatever snowstorm wishbone yadda yadda with very little pain. And a modicum of pride. That’s all I have to say for now. That’s all I ever have to say. Copyright © 2016 Ben Mirov. Used with permission of the author. |
0 comments:
Post a Comment