I float above the roof. It is effortless.
I soar up, up and up into the sky, like Superman without a cape.
Faster than a speeding bullet.
No wind resistance
I look. I feel. I move.
I have never felt so free in all my life.
I am dead.
My body is buried in a cardboard box.
Under the roof my family mourn.
They eat fruit cake.
They drink endless cups of tea.
They talk about the sad loss of me.
Even from outside I can see the black heart of the one who killed me.
Veins writhe like venomous snakes oozing a viscous mass of poisoned blood around this hate filled body.
I was in the way.
Now I am dead.
The pathway is open.
My killer smiles. Eats. Drinks. Pretends to mourn.
My killer plans the next move.
My killer waits.
I float above.
Copyright October 2013