July 3, 2006

100 Words: Death Be Not

Filed under: Prose — crcb @ 1:06 pm

If it were possible to die I might someday, but I’ve never done and can’t imagine it. Received wisdom says it’s like sleeping, but how would anybody know? Besides, I do even that alertly, aware of my position in the bed, and my wife’s, and the dog against my leg. As I amble through dreams I’m already wording my journal entries about the Spanish inquisitors, Scottish mentors and unknown lovers I meet.

I think I’ll become like oatgrass. I’ll be without a self, without awareness, but I still will be. Or maybe I’ll finally finish that Celtic rock throwing game.


Leave a Comment »

No comments yet.

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Create a free website or blog at

%d bloggers like this: