Musings on the mysteries of mortality.
- It is a short ride really
- Upon entering the house of a close friend who has recently died at a young age - your age. You know he is gone, but the unconscious mind still uncontrollably “expects” see him sitting where you last spoke – his eyes, his expression, the timber of this voice, his special sense of humor, all as they ever were – it cannot accept the notion that all that he was has now somehow suddenly stopped – he has not left the room – he is gone forever. Sadness and frustration overwhelm you.
- 50 year high school reunion. You show up expecting to see your classmates and all you find there are old men and women.