A fine day to go to the park to sample a new flavor of the house-brewed coffee to clean up the closet and fold the laundry a fine day to do many things or to not do anything and be OK with it It could also be a fine day to die to bow out of this vast stage lit by black fire to exit out of this dream nested inside another dream But most of us don't only some did for example, a former colleague whose name I will not mention we worked together briefly a man with oily and curly hair who chose to come to work because he didn't want to spend money to keep his attic AC running who was newly divorced with a young boy who liked to be viewed as smart, smooth an artful flatterer to the manager I didn't bother searching for sadness inside me that would be the wrong place to go does death make him less unpleasant to be around? I have no way to test but death did do something: it made us curious again - Do you know him? Have you worked with him? I heard he passed yesterday... it makes us feel the need to confirm with each other our reaction - Whoa, really? Muffled gasps, dropped jaws, eyes in awe it made us pause our daily maneuver and look into something only unfocused eyes can see But soon we move on with our respective businesses and forget it as if death is a stranger in the grocery store whose path we could in theory but never cross until it hits again, and again then we are reminded one more time that a fine day like this could be a day to depart leaving behind your share of obscene, embarrassment, mediocrity, and a handful of wrecked hearts |