I sit on the mausoleum steps until the sky between the trees reddens. I yawn, an involuntary reaction to the bone-deep exhaustion I feel. I have no need to eat or drink or breathe, but sleep is something even my body cannot function without. I cross the cemetery and reach my final resting place. The earth is soft and cool. I can't imagine how it's going to feel in winter. Assuming I'm still around for winter.
I crawl back into my casket, sinking into the satin lining and closing the lid behind me. Thankfully, whatever force that keeps me alive also chucks dirt back into my grave so I don't have to worry about being exposed. The dull thud of the dirt against the lid of my coffin is a lullaby, and within moments, I'm dead asleep. Pun intended.
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Siêu nhiênI'd always wondered what happens when you die. Christianity says you go to heaven or hell, Hindus and Buddhists believe you're reincarnated, Atheists just simply believe you're gone. Put in the ground and become worm food. So what did I beli...
