The day I die
I am eighty years old. I was listening to the steady ticking on the clock, connotating my last minutes on earth, in life, while my children and grandchildren staring at me, crying, goodbying me. I felt freeze creeping from my feet up to my head. Meanwhile, my limbs started to lose touch with one another as a crashing plane that loses touch with its staff. Hardly was blood circulating. A few minutes later, I unwillingly shut my eyes. I moved to another world where my soul got her freedom from my body which is entombed there in my grave. To a world where I found my work awaiting me...
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