A Fine Day to Die

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