your seat awaits
fiction
edward w pritchard
An old man with nothing left to say, so he sits quietly in his old chair and dies. Later, by tens of minutes a few loved ones sits around him too. Conspiracy theories on out of state radio stations finally silenced; he seems to have made his peace with the world
The funeral ambulance has stalled, the drivers reluctant for this is not a hospital, just someone's home.
Police are summoned. Situation analyzed. Pills, pills pill. Some dignity maybe but it's finally over as it is for all eventually. Family near, odd but steadfast. Convinced, the world indifferently grants it's exit.
Your seat awaits. Rest in silence fair pilgrim. Immortality is peaceful and illuminant.
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