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MORNING RED

Chapter One

It really wasn’t a good day to die, he thought. Not that he was frightened by the prospect; he was just, well, disappointed. Why today? Why not another day? It seemed wrong that the end would come on--of all days--this particular one.

He didn’t have the strength to move. Actually, he didn’t want to move; he was too tired. And he was cold. At first it was just his hands and feet, but soon the chill invaded the rest of him like the advance of a cold front’s formidable edge. His shivering became more and more pronounced. He didn’t know which was more disconcerting, the shaking of his body, or his knowledge of what was causing it to shake. He had always thought that freezing to death would be an unpleasant way to go, but never realized one could do so on a swelteringly hot mid-summer’s day.

He decided it really didn’t matter that today was the day. Sure it was a bad day to die, but what day wouldn’t be?

He’d been told by others that a brilliant white light lit the way from this world to the next. For him, things just started going black. At first it was at the periphery, but soon the darkness began what seemed a sinister encroachment on the light. He thought if he tried hard, he might remain conscious enough to sense what it was like at the very end, but, while he was thinking about it, it all just went away.”