Imagine the time between knowing you are alive to birdsong, the smell of cooking, the sound of children, the laughter of others. And that instant when you hover on the precipice. . . an instant. Neither here. Nor there. Who knows how long it is. Does the world slow down, ending in slow motion or is it over. What do you hear? At that stage, do you care? Do you really give a fuck? Do you now? Will you then? Will it be too late?

The home detritus forgotten. All the menialities, trivialities, banalities. The ties, that tie you to what. What really matters? In the end nothing. Have you done a good job. Or a bad job with whatever you were given. With this life you were given and what you’ve done with it. Did you try hard, were you honest. Did anyone care. As the last bits of gas bubble out will you be happy or sad. Good or bad as the song says. Will you even care?

Will time pass slowly, will you get the chance to look again at what you did. To pause. Will a great voice say to you, with the benefit of hindsight now, would you like to reconsider that, would you do that the same way? Would you do different?

And what then? What if your answer was no? That’s it. I made my choice, I took my chance and that’s what I did then. I wouldn’t change jack.

And, with the people gathered around you, what if there was someone there you didn’t care for. Would you be able to summon the last bit of your very being and tell them to get out, to go away. Imagine the last sound echoing through your dead ears was a fool you couldn’t bear in life, now destroying your very death. What would you do? Sit bolt upright in the bed assuming you were in a bed and tell them to fuck off. They would of course be offended. But what of your offence? You can’t offend the dying. Can you?

Or would you be better saying nothing. Letting yourself die without them knowing what you really thought. But at that stage would you really care.

Would you?