My eyes open to dark grey skies. I normally get up early on Sundays, a childhood hangover. Waking up with a start isn't a part of it though. So I wonder what startled me in the first place.
Not much soul searching is needed though because a few moments into waking life, I feel a tight, painful, shooting pain in my lower back. A second later, another, followed by the third. Am I paralysed? Cautiously, I wriggle my toes and the pain strikes again.
So this is it then.
Uneasiness spreads across my chest, my limbs get cold and my heart beats staccato.
Outside, the normally incessant chirping falters, as if scrolling their playlist for a sombre tune.
The beginning of the end.
A sum of the unfinished. I am sorry people. Miss me when I'm gone. Play my favourite songs. These days, its anything from Yes,Boss. Yes Boss.
I flip open my laptop to make sure all windows were shut, history nice and anaesthetised. Look around to get a final view of the world before the paralysis spreads. I see a dirty fan, a rug with little colourful crumbs and a neat looking kitchen.
Could've been worse.
Maybe I can drag my self to the balcony, to, as James Alan Hatfield sings,
"Take a look to the sky just before you die, its the last time you WILL (will...will..will *crowd roars)
Waaaitaminute. Something's running next to my head. My eyes zoom onto a single squiggly line.
Of ants.
The sky brightens, melodrama ends.
Must clean rug. Thanks nature.
Not much soul searching is needed though because a few moments into waking life, I feel a tight, painful, shooting pain in my lower back. A second later, another, followed by the third. Am I paralysed? Cautiously, I wriggle my toes and the pain strikes again.
So this is it then.
Uneasiness spreads across my chest, my limbs get cold and my heart beats staccato.
Outside, the normally incessant chirping falters, as if scrolling their playlist for a sombre tune.
The beginning of the end.
A sum of the unfinished. I am sorry people. Miss me when I'm gone. Play my favourite songs. These days, its anything from Yes,Boss. Yes Boss.
I flip open my laptop to make sure all windows were shut, history nice and anaesthetised. Look around to get a final view of the world before the paralysis spreads. I see a dirty fan, a rug with little colourful crumbs and a neat looking kitchen.
Could've been worse.
Maybe I can drag my self to the balcony, to, as James Alan Hatfield sings,
"Take a look to the sky just before you die, its the last time you WILL (will...will..will *crowd roars)
Waaaitaminute. Something's running next to my head. My eyes zoom onto a single squiggly line.
Of ants.
The sky brightens, melodrama ends.
Must clean rug. Thanks nature.
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