Pain in The Neck


It was a cold foggy London night when it happened. I had been drinking ale quite heavily and was getting
weary. As the clock struck two am, I realized I must get home to my little wife. I slid off the rough bench and
caught a splinter in the rump of me trousers.

The luck! And it smarted too!

I went out onto the cobbled stone lane, slippery from the fog and started home.

Strange, I noticed the candle was still a burning and the door was caught from the inside.

I felt a touch of fear, could something be wrong?

Hell no. I kicked the door open in anger. There in the front of the fire was my young wife with Tom O’Harry,
the gunsmith.

I lunged forward to kill him. Nobody was going to be with my woman. Now I am a very big man—no match for
young O’Harry.

He froze in utter terror. I grasped him about the neck to strangle him and he quivered.

Suddenly I felt very weak and dizzy. I released O’Harry and looked down to my chest to the dagger hilt
protruding just below my breast.

My God! I’m dying. No pain, just shock. I felt my legs giving out and a very sharp pain where my neck struck
the base of the fireplace.

Gladness and serene silence surrounded me.

The next I knew the sheriff and the priest were looking over me—no looking over my body.

Strange but now I knew that this was death. I stayed for a while to see what would happen to the body. It had
been a good one for as long as it had lasted.

Funny it seems like I have done this many times before. I wonder what will happen next.

Have you lived before? Do you really believe you will die? Forget the logic that bodies
grow old, what do you think will happen to you? Has happened to you?

I remember .
..

Written about C1980  
Carl Watts ©2008
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Created 12/9/08, modified 1/22/09
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