Maybe Unexpected
He laid what was left, from his backpack, from his life, he laid it out there, on the railroad tracks, he was tired of traveling, aimless and penniless, sick and bruised, he was tired of his dreamless sleepless nights; he wanted dreams again, he dreamt of this before but what he had really wanted all along was just to sleep, because dreaming is easier than moving, and so he laid out his life, out there on the tracks, from his backpack, and he watched a train just like the ones that he used to take, he watched it come and go, over everything left that he had owned, and he said there, now I can let go, I can start over, and he walked down the hill, into the high grass, and he slept as long as he could stand to sleep, inbetween the passing trains, the birds waking, and the earthworms kissing the insides of his arms and underneath his neck; inbetween the shouts from the neighbors, the grasshoppers crying in his hair, and the sun standing still halfway over the hills; inbetween the footsteps marching somersaults of sound, the house by the creek whining with screened door sounds, and the Spring trees aching for growth; inbetween the beating of his heart and the rest of the world and the woman who finally said "oh my God I think he's dead." So he started counting down the days of the week, saying so long, farewell. He didn't have time really to see his life go by in a flash, or a train, he just kind of left. Out of his body, not really up or down, left or right, no stairs or wings, just was suddenly somewhere else. And there was this voice, that sounded familiar but he could not remember the name of, this sexless voice talking to him. It said things like well, here you are, you've finally died. And nothing really symapthetic, all considering, but oddly consoling nontheless. He kept feeling his chest with his palm, trying to get used to not having a heartbeat. While this voice kept going it's not bad, maybe unexpected... And he was trying to listen but didn't really care. He looked around and the scenery started to gradually fill in, like crayons and colorbooks. A house, a kitchen, a stove with brown stains, windows bathed in purple and dandelion shades. It was familiar but wasn't, like the voice that was still talking. You know, you lose your imagination here, but after a while you should forget what it was like to have one... And he is about to panic, because everything looks familiar but not quite and he feels sick to his stomach and finally the voice explains to him, it's okay, calm down. The thing is, we don't remember things in life exactly how they were, over time we add in imagination, we add in colors, we switch things around. That's why it's only half familiar. And see, if you were listening you would have heard me say that the afterlife isn't after your life, it's sort of during your life. You live in your memories, you get to walk around, watch them, and relive the emotions. That's why you feel so weird now, this memory was from when you were six and your dog ran away, and your mom blamed you, because you let him out without his leash, and you were ridden with guilt. But don't worry, I'll show you how to get in a different memory and eventually you can find a nice one. Hey, are you listening? "But all I ever did was dream, I never lived." I know. That's why there's no people in these memories, you spent too much time sleeping and living in your own head to remember anyone well enough to recreate them here. It's funny, a lot of people think life is pointless, but being alive is all there is. A train rushed by, suddenly, through the house that he was in, like wind. He stepped back and started to understand. The voice continued. So you can jump onto that train if you want, but you didn't travel very long or see very much before you gave up. He watched the train pass and asked "but there must be someone else, somewhere." Unfortunately for us, I'm the only one you remember well enough, and I'm just your subconscious, sort of, pretty much, for the lack of a better word, and so it's just you and me, for however long forever is.