Fantasy | In This Future Or The Next

Category – Fantasy

Do you want to die?

The night had been uneventful and I was in the middle of falling asleep in my bed when a voice whispered in my ear.

“You have one wish.”

Immediately, and without thinking about it very much, I answered: “I wish for more life.”

“How much more life?” I was asked.

It was a good question. I knew I didn’t want to die the next day, but how long a life was a good life? Fifty more years? A hundred?

“Can I change my mind later?” I asked.

“No.”

“Okay. I wish for you to ask me if I want to die at the end of each day. If I say yes, I’ll die. If I say no, I get to live another day.”

“Granted.”

And that’s the way it worked. Every day, as I was nodding off to sleep, a whispering voice asked me: Do you want to die? And I said no. I couldn’t have wished for a better wish, I thought. There was no downside and there was no catch. I would decide when to die. Me and no one else. And every night, after replying ‘no’, I thought of deaths I’d read in news. People drowning in heavy rainfalls, and people burning in their sleep, as their building caught fire, and people dying of old age. None were ready. None had been given the choice. All of them died in suffering, wanting to hang on to life, clutching their bedsides as their minds slipped into oblivion. Suddenly I was aware of the fear. It permeated everyone. Every action anyone ever took was an action taken to postpone death, to avoid thinking of it or face it, and yet it surrounded them. It surrounded me.

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The Ghosts of Jonestown

Jonestown is a place that existed between the city of Helena and the gold mine. I’ve worked at the mine for several years, and sometimes, when I feel I need to clear my head, or think about the things that happen in my life, I walk.

It’s a good walk, a good distance from my home in the outskirts of the city. It takes me a good four hours. The path takes me through Jonestown, I know it well by now. I don’t worry much of vagrants or robbers or drug addicts, the ghosts keep them away.

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The World Under the Drain

I was eight when it happened. It had been a rough day at school, tons of homework, tons of house chores, you know, that type of day. I had been waiting for the night to take me away into the land of dreams and it came as it always did, but it didn’t take me where I wanted to go.

I was taking a bath enjoying the stream of hot water as it cruised on my skin and away into the drain when I heard a knock on my door.

“Dean, I need to use the bathroom. Are you gonna be long?” my sister’s high pitched voice echoed around me.

“No, I’ll be right out.”

I turned the water off and grabbed my towel before I left the tub. I was in a hurry, drying myself as fast as I could, ignoring the vortex that was steadily growing at my feet. I had never thought much of it, I don’t think anyone does. The swirling soapy water goes into the small hole at the bottom. Where does it go?

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