Book End
I’m staring at the instrument of my demise, which looms larger with each step. Right now, I’m unsure how I feel about my life’s end. Sure, I may be ragged around the edges, yellowed with age, tattered, and wrinkly, but old is not useless, is it? I feel like I still have life left in me, that I’d still be wanted, loved, and cared for by someone.
They say your life flashes before you when you are dying, or in my case, about to die. I have to admit, I do remember some of the people I’ve met, and the places I’ve been.
There was the boy who clung to me like I was his very own lifeline. I spent a few years soothing his aches and pains and cheering him up. When he grew old enough and no longer needed me, I went away to a new home with richer furnishings. Here, the woman liked to murmur the words as she read. Normally, that’d drive me nuts, but her husky voice was an unexpected thrill. After her, I traveled around from home to home. Sometimes I found myself lingering in stores with others like me. We’d pass the time chatting until we were carried off on new adventures. I’ve seen the ocean, mountains, rivers, and streams. I’ve witnessed love, grief, anger, and joy. I’ve even witnessed others’ deaths.
My body is shoved hard and flat against glass, jolting me back to the present. The blinding light scanning me, prying into my deepest, darkest secrets, makes me remember another guy who thought it was a good idea to flee the cop trying to give him a speeding ticket. He laughed as he led a string of cop cars on a long car chase through the city. That ended poorly. Just as my end will, albeit with less blood.
Sure, I’ll live on in memory. But I will no longer be around for people to hold or love…
As I am torn apart, I am me no more.
Just an electronic ghost.