Where The Dead Reside

 

“Is it really like that when you die?”

 

We were watching the Book Of Life. In the land of the dead there is more life and celebration than when people are alive especially on the Day Of The Dead.

 

“I don’t know sweetie.”

 

I was going to say that no one has ever come back to tell anyone about what happens at the same time flashing back to when I saw my grandfather after he’d passed. Was it a dream? Certainly wasn’t what my definition of a vision was in those days. I walked into a luncheonette and he was sitting at a booth. I almost walked past suddenly recognizing him. He had his head down chuckling like he did when he was playing a joke. I got excited and teary never expecting to see him again overwhelmed he’d come to see me and he frowned as if I were being absurd. I guess I was. He loved me. Should I ever have doubted it? He looked good, young and healthy. I think I hugged him. The same thing happened with my grandmother. She was on a sidewalk on a street like we lived in Yonkers, residential homes in a row shaded by trees. She was in a dress like she’d worn when she was younger wearing a pair of shoes with stacked heels. How could I have known? I was no more than an infant if that. I might not have even been a thought yet. She walked briskly, looked so healthy and in great shape. There were other relatives. They all looked good completely free of pain. Not in any of that had anyone talked about what happens or where they’d been hanging out these days. No tunnels, no lights, no voices calling, besides, I was still alive.

 

He spoke before I could offer an explanation, as if, or an insight.

 

“Well when you die you’ll have to take your iPad.”

 

“Do you want me to send you pictures?”

 

He became quiet watching all that went on.

 

“Your iPad will have to die too.”

 

“So I can send a message then?”

 

“Yes you can tell me.”

 

“Okay.”

 

 

 

World Without End

Read The Instructions it’d said somewhere. The last time was a disaster so she read. “Not from memory this time” to herself she said.

“Sage, rosemary, wormwood and belladonna, crush together, over the body spread. Pierce eyelids with a fine needle, not all the way through, just a prick. Chant for five minutes, but no more than six and dead he will no longer be.”

“We’ll just see” she muttered as she followed it through.

Up he rose. The first moment she knew when he put on an apron and began to clean.

“He’s not himself.”

Her smile beamed.

100wcgu-7

http://jfb57.wordpress.com/2014/11/17/100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups-week155/

Your prompt this week it is:

“…READ THE INSTRUCTIONS!…”