As I Write Dying
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You're at home it's late, the light goes out. You search for the light switch and turn it on, nothing. you hear a shuffling in the distance, something grabs you. you hear screaming, it's your scream. A deep laugh sounds in front of you, a pain shoots through your chest. The light turns on, your white shirt is now a crimson stain as your life drains onto the floor.
Leonard Jones
Author of dark tales and misery, humor and inquisitions on life.I write all things from the humorous side of life to the darker more tragic and terrifying parts that lurk in the shadows ready to severe your spine.
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As I Write Dying - Leonard Jones
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright 2011 by Leonard Jones
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under U.S. Copyright act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the Author.
Visit our spotlight at www.lulu.com/spotlight/leonardjones
Contact the author at Leonardejones@gmail.com
All images contained here in, are soul property of the author and may not be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the Author.
Edited for publishing by: Tracie Jones
Published by: Leonard Jones at Smashwords
ISBN: 978-1-4657-5376-2
For the reader
May you enjoy the tragedy.
Other Books By
Leonard Jones
Comedy
How Fu*k*d Up Would It Be If…
You’re Pretty Stupid if…
150 Reasons Why Florida Sucks
Questions, Concerning, Regarding and About God
Non-Fiction
The Lost Beauty
Visit my Lulu store at:
www.lulu.com/spotlight/leonardjones
As
I
Write
Dying
A Change of Pace
Brotherly Hate
Fallen
Prelude to Abduction
The Embalmer’s Ballad
Old Star
Subjection
The Tale of Devon Black
The Well of Souls
As I Write Dying
Author’s Notes
A Change of Pace
It was as any other day went; I got up, brushed my teeth and went into the kitchen. I turned on the coffee pot that I had prepared the night before, just to save those few extra minutes in the morning. I put a bagel in the toaster oven; I got out the cream cheese and sat it next to a small plate that I had laid out the night before.
Like clockwork the toaster oven dings as the coffee finishes brewing. I have a small coffee pot, waste not want not, being as I live alone it is perfect for me. The next ten minutes are spent in this order; I pour myself eight ounces of coffee set it down on the table and spread the cream cheese onto my bagel. I eat the bagel and drink the coffee with the nine minutes I have left, all the while thinking of what today might bring. Once finished I pour eight ounces of coffee into my travel mug, grab the keys and I am off to my daily commute.
My morning ride takes fifteen minutes; I drink my coffee and listen to N.P.R’s Talk of the Nation. When I arrive at the parking garage I always park in the same spot, not that it is assigned but that it is where I like to be. I have always parked here in this spot for the past ten years. Well, except for today.
No today I parked at the top of the parking garage. It was a nice day and something just pushed me to park up there. I got every green light, which is unheard of, and felt it was a grand and momentous day.
I backed into the parking spot next to the edge so I could look over. I saw the sun come up, and that was where I failed. I lost track of the time, I was staring into the sun for seconds, minute’s maybe. Ten, five I was unsure. But that sun, it was the most beautiful thing I had seen today. Everything grew silent like a whisper as I stared into that majestic orb. Everything was ignored, the traffic below, the birds chirping, all I could hear was the wind in my ears. I felt the cool breeze and the warmth of the sun as the wind passed for a second time.
This was the most peaceful moment of my life no other moment could possibly measure up. It was also the most foolish moment of my life; if I had not slipped in my routine if I had stayed the course then I would not have been standing there. I was standing in that very spot, when the tires screeched breaking the peaceful silence. As I turned seeing those few seconds, fractions even. That car, Doug’s car speeding towards me, he had his head back had he suffered another heart attack while driving? I tried to jump out of the way and I am still not sure if I did or if the car had knocked me over.
Doug was seventy-two years old stubborn as any mule and should have retired years ago. He had suffered two heart attacks before but refused to give up and retire. That man swore he would work till his dying day, and perhaps he did just that.
Every thing went silent after his car hit mine and all I could hear was the rush of wind blowing past my ears, as I watch the top of the parking garage grow smaller and get further away from me. What came next was a bright blinding flash of white followed by blackness, and the last thing I heard was my breath escaping me.
When I awoke, as it was, a throbbing headache accompanied me and tremendous pain shooting from all points of my body. I heard doctors and nurses talking, I couldn’t see