emily says dying is a wild night and a new road. i say dying is sort of like walking too close to the rails when the chicago el whizzes by--whooosh! nowyouseeme nowyoudon't! dying tastes like a quiet color in explosive rainbow proportions. i hear the clacking coming, i feel the rush of wind, i touch the steamy air just before that silver bullet train starts whizzing toward me.
i wonder if the actual moment of death feels like being a rider on the train watching the people stare as i pass by them.
i wonder if death feels like new life.
i wonder if becalmanddie would make a good slogan on a billboard advertising dying.
perhaps emily is right after all; perhaps there should be a billboard sign lit in blinking neon lights, guiding the way home on the new road (which just happens to pass a tad too close to the Chicago el tracks)--whooosh!