Another Tomorrow

This post is written for Sunday Photo Fiction.

I scan the beach. How do we do it? How do we bear the unbearable truth? How can we fathom someones death? Indeed how can we confront the reality of our own death?

Someday I will die and leave my wife and children behind. Or someday each of then will die and leave me alone.

How do we deal with this cruel truth?

For those with faith they have their hope. For us that don’t we have reality. No heaven or hell to worry about. And certainly no afterlife. Once your dead your dead Fred.

And still we have a hard time facing that unescapable fact. It’s something we all have in common. We all have a hard time talking about the ultimate end of our life.

So, like always, I put that thought away. I’ll think about it another day. Perhaps!

Friday Fictioneers — Trouble at the Gate

In response to Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneer Challenge.

three_chairs
Copyright — Melanie Greenwood

Wayne slowly eased his 83-year-old body into the patio chair. A food magazine had described the food at this restaurant as “heavenly.” His friend Alfred occupied one of the other chairs. “Where is Charlie?’

Alfred, already miffed because Wayne was 10 minutes late for their lunch, continued to stare at the menu. He was having a difficult time deciding between the angel food cake or the devil delight. “Said he was having some trouble at the gate.”

Wayne, having already decided on his menu selection, turned around looking for their waiter. “Where is he? What, are we invisible?”