Life after death

Perhaps more perplexing than witnessing a fellow dead-person getting their skull bitten into, was the loss of trust toward this other ravenous fella. Sure I wanted him to get that bitch off my back but did not see THIS coming at all.

So disillusined and frightened I became that I fled as he was feeding lest he turn his attention toward me when done. Walking was not enough and after taking a few conspicuous sideways steps I began to will myself to fly. It was harder than I remembered, having been a long time since I last flew, but I willed myself nonetheless and kept willing until I began to soar toward and beyond the powerlines. The deserted city block. The ominous confusion of the lost souls left behind. Until I reached an indoor gathering where civility appeared in tact even as I did not quite put down my skepticism armor.

It was here that I observed a young fellow handing another a pill and a beverage with a smile and the words: "this will make it better." The pill was soon after washed down and sure enough the room grew airier, brighter; the ceilings taller; and along with sparkingly extravagent 17th century attire, the young man acquired long curls and a magnificent pair of wings.

Now THIS is how I imagine afterlife to be--an eternal costume ball, i thought, and relaxed for the first time since dying.