For months after, everything I saw was bathed in that glowing light you only see in the days before and after an equinox. A red leaf on the stream behind my house reminded me of the poppies I had seen in spring. Both well-loved. But I wouldn’t miss them.
In time, I lay down. Death came like a kiss on the mouth, and I. . .
Rustling. “You can open your eyes, you know.”
I pretended not to hear. Must be an odd neural hiccup.
“You’re not planning to just lie there, er, forever, are you?” More rustling, like the dog turning round and round.
I rolled my eyes. “I was hoping for nirvana.”