Halloween

I died last night.

I hate Halloween. I mean, sure, its great that kids get to go around and get candy and dress up in cute little costumes and all that, but from a inventory regulations inspector (read desk job at a grocery chain), its a nuisance. Every November first I have to go throughout the whole store, pull all the unsold halloween candies, decorations and costumes count them up, tag them all with a discount price (still a huge markup) and throw them into a bin to make room for Christmas stuff. However, this Halloween was exceptionally crappy.

I was out screen golfing with the Jakes and Bria. The room was stifling hot. So hot the gum in my pocket was soft and beginning to ooze out of the wrapper. Jake G tried turning on the A.C. but being Halloween, it had already been winterized. By the time I was teeing off the 7th hole, I had begun sweating so badly that the club slid right out of my hands and flew through the air hitting the screen before clattering to the ground to the sound of my graphic description of what the owner likes to do with his mother and where he came from.

Walking over to pick up the driver while wiping the sweat from my hands like a 7th grader at his first school dance I started feeling faint. It seemed to get hotter and hotter as I got further from the vents. The Jakes and Bria seemed fine, a little warm maybe, but nothing like what I was feeling. Grabbing the driver, I turned and stumbled for the door passing it to . . .someone as I headed out the door for some fresh air.

Things started to go black. I remember being in the bathroom at the golf zone shirtless, splashing water all over myself. Somehow I ended up outside naked with steam rising off my body. My head was pounding, my mouth was cracking and super dry. Someone was calling my name but my sandpaper eyelids wouldn't open. They were frantic. "Brian?" they called out. " Are you okay?" "What's happening?" "What are you on?" "Someone call 911!" "BRIAN!" Then there was a scream. I think I was on my knees but I may have been laying down or floating in a fiery cauldron of burning tar while someone poured pure molten lava over me, I couldn't really tell, or care. I just kept getting hotter and hotter until I stopped. Everything stopped. Pain, Caring, Their Cries, All the debates of the world, Everything. It all stopped, including me. I was dead. My blood boiled inside me, eventually, it cooked my heart and I was done.

Death is quiet.