Being dead isn't as bad as it seems.
Ok, it is, but not for the reasons you'd probably expect. I'm sure many of you would be disappointed to hear the details. The living are so caught up with their grand, existential ideas of the beyond that I'm almost sorry to be the barer of this news. There's no hellfire, no demons, no great mystical beings in an epic clash for my soul. It's just me, wandering the streets of Boston, stuck in seemingly endless string of uneventful days. Granted, this is just one mere being's soiree into the afterlife. Your mileage may vary.
If I could remember my life as a human, I would probably say little has changed. But since I can't, I can only assume this based on what I've observed from the passersby I see around my town. I'm not even sure how I came to be in this particular spot, I just sort of was one day, and I can't seem to find a reason to leave.
If there's one difference I've picked up on between the living and me, it's the drastically varying levels of so-called social interaction. They have this awful habit of ensuring everyone else knows every minuscule detail of their, from what I can tell, mundane lives. Whenever they're not actively chattering amongst themselves, they're speaking and furiously typing into their little voice boxes (I forget the real name). You probably know what I'm talking about. They can't seem to be left alone for more than a minute without attempting some sort of, often self-centered, dialogue. I, on the other hand, do not have this problem. I'm not saying I don't get lonely on occasion, but conversing with the living takes a lot of effort on my part, and I don't really see the point anymore. I've never gained much from my few interactions with them anyway. Partaking in idle conversation about the weather and "jazzercise" class remind me that being dead has its merits too.
I can talk to other ghosts, spirits, what have you, whenever I come across them, but I don't hold my proverbial breath for that. I've only come across a couple in my time, and they've been just as lost as I am.
To sum up: The afterlife contains a lot less dramatic judgment of a soul's final destination, and a lot more general boredom and occasional anxiety. I'm sure you're jumping for joy at the news.
At least you don't have to worry about dying, I suppose.
Reassuring, I'm sure.
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Post-Human
FantasyMy first attempt at novel writing, so be nice. A ghost, or 'post-human' as he likes to call it, is perfectly content with his sleepy little solitary life. No one can see him, and he likes it that way. Until recently that is. One girl comes out of n...
