March 6, 2012
Panic. A sensation of fear. You begin to be agitated. You can’t think. All reason is gone.
The smoke is starting to get thick. She can’t breathe anymore. Her mind is in shambles. She is on the corridor of the hotel walking towards the fire exit. She is confused, crying. Suddenly, the ceiling collapsed in front of her and flames started to creep in the floor that she was on. She’s trapped. The only way remaining is to go back. To her room she ran as the fire started to engulf everything on the corridor. She locked the door. She’s all alone, and with the knowledge that she’s about to die, she just decided to lay on the bed. As she lay, she thought of her life, and what brought her here to this place. The good and bad times during her 25 years of existence.
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A series of short stories, written in journal form, about death and by Death.
February 19, 2012
So I’m off to the mall, still walking. I know what you’re thinking ‘You’re death, why don’t you just summon a horse or a car or just snap your fingers to get to where you are?’ Uhm, because A. I don’t like horses and their smelly shit, B. A car? In Manila? Hahaha, Death would die in traffic… and C. I’m Death, I don’t snap my fingers, that’s a genie thing. Death prefers to walk, seeing/staring/stalking humans, and I heard that walking is apparently good for the health. Yeah, I’m health conscious too.
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A series of short stories, written in journal form, about death and by Death.
January 25, 2012
What is a light day? I don’t really know. Have you ever experienced one? I guess not. I have light days too — this is one of them — and probably the most memorable of them all, because just for a day, I only got one.
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