Necromance

Each moment that passes the spade digs deeper and deeper into the earth. Each thrust into the moist soil removes more dirt that gets him closer to the buried casket. The sound increases every moment till the next noise is of the shovel hitting the casket lid with a thud.  More scrapping continues as more dirt is removed from the lid and then silence for a few moments.

Then with a pop and rush of fresh air, the lid opens to a moonlit night.  A lantern is waved in front of my face then placed off to the side to illuminate the open casket while he continues. Gently he brushes the dirt that had fallen on my face away. Tenderly stroking my cheeks and running his hands through my hair.

I wish to open my mouth to scream out but am unable to do so.  Fighting back does no good as the muscles of my body are too weak to lift themselves, let alone fight off a hundred plus pound man. I can only wait for it to end and for him to leave me in peace.

Being dead sucks.

Future

The future is this huge looming thing that stands in front of us.
Overwhelming us with the enormity of the possibilities that could be.
Too terrified to act from fear of choosing incorrectly, we then choose an act of not acting.
Instead of looking at the whole picture, we must focus on that first step then the next and so forth and so on.
A lack of beginning is a lack of wanting.