Oblivion
I am dead. I must be, because life as I know it is missing; nothing remains. Yet, surprisingly, it is not black as you might expect ‘nothing’ to be, but a murky grey misty colour, more like a very low grade ’something’. It is cold, so dreadfully cold, and I long for the warmth of a companion.
Then the grey splits momentarily and a luminous sign flashes by and screams at me, “Drink Coca-Cola!”, before disappearing again into the swirling mist.
The unbearable loneliness returns and soon I long for the next ad break.
