The Strangest

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Someone died, I don’t know. It’s pretty obvious that someone died. People die every minute. When it hits home, it’s plain and clear. Someone died. You can’t just say it’s a coincidence.

I got the phone call. I made sure to make a note of it.

Someone called. Apparently someone died.

Based on the number of likes and comments, it looks like it’s a big deal. But then again, tonight is like most nights: Not worth remembering. I don’t believe much of anything if it isn’t there in the morning.

I tell myself, it’s real if it’s still there. I remind myself. I think it’s something worth considering.

It sounds bad.

Get there in the morning — skip the hospital, the person on the phone said the funeral is tomorrow. Halfway across the city.

I never travel that far, not for anything.

Wish I could just build a big pillow fort and live there for the rest of my life. That’s a good one. Statuses like that get at least a couple dozen likes. People feel the same way. They see what it’s like when people die. It feels, well it feels like being forced to do something. I shouldn’t talk. I’m not like this. This isn’t me.

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