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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Writing · #2036321
This is part 8 of my "Light at the End of the Tunnel" short story series.
The chill of the early morning air grazed over the nape of my neck.

‘I should’ve worn a scarf’, I thought to myself, taking a pull of my cigarette. ‘But scarves are only for women… right?’

I knew it didn’t really matter. No one else in this town is crazy enough to come to the park and watch the sunrise almost every morning. In this funny thing that we humans call “life”, there are weightlessness ups, pit-falling downs, lefts, rights, and corkscrews. The sun, however, always rose and always set. I knew about the common celestial movements you learn about in grade school. Those, among other things I heard about in the news, watched in movies, or had read through a black-hole-like adventure through online encyclopedia articles. I couldn’t help but think about how millennia into the future, the sun would eventually consume the entire planet
.
‘Would it always be daylight in those times? Would humans even exist at that point?’

I knew I would be long gone before that time. I would be dead.

“Death.” I whispered aloud, exhaling another cloud of smoke.

That’s another thing. Another mystery. Perhaps the greatest mystery. In my honest opinion I would say that death is the final frontier. I’ve heard of people supposedly clinically dying and coming back to tell the story of what the after-life is like. There are books, news reports, articles, scientific theories. I don’t think any of them are wrong per se. I don’t really think they are true either. Maybe the after-life isn’t meant to be a one-size-fits-all deal. Maybe it’s personalized. Maybe everyone experiences their own after-life based on their own preference, experiences, etc.

What if the after-life is like a dream that lasts for eternity. What if the dreams we experience in our after lives are just other lives to live. Every time we “die” in one dream life, we just wake up born into a new dream life. This actually sounds a lot like regeneration, or reincarnation. Maybe deja-vu is the feeling we get when we think we have done something before and remember it because we actually have experienced the same event or a very similar event in a previous dream life…

I began to see a faint glow of orange coming over the horizon as I felt the vibration of my cell phone from my jacket pocket.
Glancing at the screen, I saw her name and pressed the answer button.

“Hello darling, I’m at the park, I’ll be home soon.” I said, she knew about my habit, even joined me quite a few times when we first started dating. That was 3 years ago though.

“Okay hun, don’t keep me waiting too long”, she said mischievously. “Love you”

“Love you too darling.” I stood up with a slight chuckle as I ended the call.

‘Always rambling’ I thought to myself as I made my way back home.
© Copyright 2015 John Cardinal (johncardinal at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2036321-The-Rambling