So you’re probably thinking I was a drunk in my human life and you’d be right. I loved my thirst for alcohol. I loved the stupor it gave me, the release of problems, how it tickled the back of my throat as I savored each drop. I loved my alcohol. I’m not sure if this came from my hatred of life, or that my father was also an alcoholic. Hey! Look at that, I’ve accomplished the first step. I admitted I was an alcoholic. Yeah, I’m not feeling any better. Moving on.
So, my accident. You’re probably also wondering if I was drunk when I tried to outrun the train. Why yes, yes I was. It wasn’t even a good drunk either. I was buzzed at best. I knew the train was coming, I saw the bars dropping, lights flashing, hell, I probably even heard the rush of the train wheels on the track. It was thrilling to push my car into Batmobile mode and floor the gas pedal. For a few seconds, I was on top of the world and then I ended up literally on top of the world as I lifted up out of my body. Yep, that’s right, I remember the whole thing.
The soul lifting up out of the body and headed towards the “light” is all true. I lived, or rather, died through it. It actually happens. The tunnel thing was a little confusing though. Ah, don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. The tunnel, with the light at the end where harps are played and you grow wings, yeah, bunch of crock. There was a light, but that just turned out to be my guide.
There’s no audible speech in the afterlife either. All communication is done through telepathy or none at all. My orb light guide kept motioning for me to follow and I did. I’m not sure whether this was done through a head nod, or a summoning hand telling me to follow. I just did it because what else did I have to do?
So back to my speed demon death. I remember my day almost perfectly. It was my last one after all, why wouldn’t I remember it? I wasn’t completely drunk. I remember getting up that day for work, 5 AM. Always too fucking early for me, but hey it was worth the vodka I had for breakfast. Just one glass, don’t judge me.
I slipped into the shower and nearly broke my neck. Sure, blame it on the vodka, I did when it happened. I should’ve known then it was going to be a bad day. Seems someone or something was gunning for me.
I lived alone simply because my wife left me. No kids, thank the gods for that. Wouldn’t want to be leaving behind any offspring without a dad. I do have a heart regardless of me being a drunk. I could blame Jan leaving me because of my drinking and I would be right. She was gone nearly two years now, and I was doing all the drinking I could to cope with the loneliness. We were married for almost 2 years and to be honest, I’m surprised it lasted that long. I was an alcoholic before Jan and I met and I believed she knew what she was getting into when we tied the knot, but apparently, she grew out of my drinking life and decided to move on.
I had a good job. I was the cable guy. Yeah, the one that shows up between 7 am and 7pm? That was me. I climbed poles, drilled holes through floors and even made the occasional sales pitch for customers to upgrade their internet speed. I wasn’t great at my job, but I had a good handle on it. I was content with the route and well, it worked with my drinking schedule. I usually worked alone unless I was training a newb that would decide that working out in the cold weather wasn’t for him.
This particular day, I was working alone. With a quick tumbler of vodka in me and a hot shower to awaken the stupor, I got dressed in my uniform and headed out the door. I grabbed my Camels along the way and slammed the door shut to my trailer. Yes, I fit the cliché of a divorced drunk who lives in a trailer park. Luckily, I didn’t have a Camaro on cinder blocks in the front yard.
Instead, I drove a small hatchback that was easy to handle when I was in one of my stupors. This morning was a just a little buzz and I was hoping I didn’t rinse all of it away in the shower. Being buzzed was a way of life. It reminded me I needed more alcohol to keep it going and to avoid the headaches that came with a hangover. The true hangover relief is drinking more. At least it was true in my case. Stay buzzed all the time. No one will ever notice. Well, except maybe the train that smashed my car like a tin can. Stupid hatchback. Maybe I should’ve fought for the SUV in the divorce.
So, my orb guide, you know, the fuzzy little ball of light, led me to another group after the judges decided I would be a tree. Through telepathy, my guide told me that trees were a common reincarnation. Great. Now I would be among other trees that fucked up their lives as humans. I wonder if squirrels get reincarnated as trees with other squirrels climbing on them? Focus, focus! Fuck I can’t even slap my head to snap me out of it. My brain must still think it’s drunk even in tree form. Wait, do I even have a brain?!
Whatever, doesn’t matter really. Back to my guide. The group he took me to next was in a small room filled with familiar orbs. I couldn’t place any of them, but I sensed something familiar, almost like déjà vu, but not. Too weird to explain. But one of the orbs came to me and I felt like I was being hugged, welcomed even. I couldn’t tell if it was someone glad to see me, or if it was for condolences of my death. Regardless, it was nice.
Next was all a blur, literally. More of a blur than the colored balls of light around me. I could tell my buzz from the early morning vodka was wearing off and it took everything in me not to ask my guide for some aspirin and coffee to head off the hangover. Next thing I know, I’m a small tree, weak and thin without leaves or needles to ward off the breeze that was ripping through me.
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