I Woke Up Dead
I woke up dead. I got out of bed and heated water for coffee. I lit a cigarette and left in on the counter top. I stared at my hands. The pot whistled and I turned the heat off.
I felt an absence of conviction, and I realized that life is propelled by conviction. Not what we call conviction, which is actually fear, but true conviction, which is a constant, underlying pulse.
I went into the bathroom and at the sink turned the hot water on and off twice. Then I flushed the toilet and watched the water swirl away. I walked around the house picking things up and setting them down again. I didn’t turn on my computer, the radio or the TV.
I was naked, but I had no desire to put clothes on. The house was immensely quiet.
I returned to the bedroom and lay on the bed on my back. I closed my eyes. The hands of the alarm clock moved past the time it was set for, but it didn’t ring.
This is how they would find me.