Short Stories

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I died this morning.

My heart went black and my soul became silent. The things I’d held dear, all that I’d treasured…were gone. I knew nothing of them.

My hand were empty, my lips dry. There was no one there, for that, I was glad. This would be different.

Not an ordinary death. No, something much more.

I had made the necessary arrangements. An urn for the ashes, music for the doves and a moment of silence for myself.

At the first hint of morning, I cried two tears.

By morning’s new light, I buried my old self.

The ashes of charred mistakes were emptied into the urn. My freedom was expressed, in releasing two, snow-white doves. A moment of silence was allotted. A time for me to think. To decided who I would be, before the sun rose.

I would live today.

My new heart was freshly painted pink. Passion and perseverance were moulded into my soul. New memories were promised. New treasures were given. My hands were prepared, my lips, ready.

This is not an ordinary life. No, it is much more.

I have made the necessary arrangements. Kindling for my heart’s desire. A symphony for my life’s song and a moment of silence. To reflect on what is to come.

At the second light of morning, I cried two tears. One for hope. One for life. For as soon as I awake, to face this new day, the world will demand my attention.

Unless I am focused, renewed and healed, I would be dead by morning’s new life.

Copyright 2008

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