I wanted to post this in a blog of it’s own… mainly because I wanted my submission to stand apart from the normal draw. I also want to make sure that you, the reader, are aware that this is entirely fiction. I am alive, and my vision of my death is mere imagination. This interpretation would never be considered reality for many reason. I will explain myself as questions arise… so let’s get startedMy DeathI have imagined my death over and over. I see it every time I open the front door of my apartment, every time I am behind the wheel of my car, and even while walking up a flight of stairs or riding in an elevator. Every waking moment death stalks me. We will all eventually die, and to some the fear of this consumes them.Why be afraid? Why not welcome it? I shall choose my moment of death, and it will be divine.This death I write of is a woman, like me, in her 30’s, but she has no children to worry about… she has no husband to consume her extra time. She is alone with a busy mind, and has thought out this moment for months.
whispers a change in seasons.
A long day at work and long wait in traffic to get home
has her nerves on end.
Open the door and a jingle of the keys
as they are discarded into the bowl on the ledge….
purse on the kitchen counter…
jacket on the rack in the hall.
Heavy shoulders and head
pour a glass of wine
throw back a couple of scripts
Shoes beside the couch and socks thrown
in a laundry basket at the end of the hall.
Eloquent oriental rug kissing the bottom of her bare feet,
she collapses on the oversized sofa
and flips channels with her remote control…
stopping on a music channel charming her ears
with tunes from the big band era.
Gathering the courage to check her messages,
she presses play and heads down the hall to run a bath.
blah blah blah says the messages on the machine,
and water looks so inviting and warm
Sitting on the toilet staring at the running water…
sipping the almost empty glass of wine… reminiscing.
A trip down the hall, through the living room
into the kitchen to refill her glass…
her head is light and
the bricks are beginning to fall from her shoulders.
The music is so lovely and she dances
through the living room,
spinning feeling light and airy… feeling beautiful.
oh shit! The water…
she runs into the room and quickly turns the water off.
Although it has run over the sides of the tub
and all over the floor… who cares.
She laughs… what a mess.
She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror…
wow… prettier than usual… taller, almost dreamy.
She slips her delicate sweater over her head and
eyeballs the water.
Emptying the wine glass,
she gently sets it on the side of the sink,
and carefully slides her pants off and steps out of them.
Still in panties and bra, she steps into the hot bath and sighs.
As she slips down into the tub,
water pours onto the bathroom floor.
Eyes closed she takes in a few deep breaths
and dreams of “good times”.
Moments pass… feels like an eternity,
and she fumbles for the vanity drawer beneath the sink.
Wrapped in leather an old barber’s blade is revealed.
She takes it lovingly into her right hand
and extends the blade with her left.
Admiring her reflection in the blade,
she spends another moment in her thoughts
then returns to her original plan.
With blade in hand, she sets up.
Aligns the beautiful stainless steel
with the middle of her forearm
and drags it toward her wrist slowly.
A thick rich red begins to flow
and she tosses the blade on the floor,
throwing her right arm behind her head
she sinks back into the tub
and watches her water change color…
it’s still warm and comforting,
and she feels sleepy.
Gently closing her eyes,
she doesn’t fight the sleep…
finally she can rest.