Death on Deck

I’ve noticed lately that a lot of my writing seems to have taken on a death theme.  I don’t know whether to blame myself or my brain, Peanuts.

Maybe it’s just that Peanuts and I are getting older; and when you get to be our age, the future isn’t as wide open and expansive as it used to be.

Peanuts and I have reached the crest of the hill of life, whereupon it’s all downhill from here on out.  Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying the ride down that hill (in a car without any brakes) to one’s final destination (a drop off to the unknown) isn’t fun, as such.

I’m just saying that once you’re hurtling down that hill in the Death Car of Life, the scenery is going by way too fast.  Which is ironic because when you get older, you tend to want to go slower and dwell on the little details of life, like shrubbery, or the quality of the current garbage service or whether or not they overcharged you for that ham.

“Will you hurry up! You’re going to die in an hour and a half!”
“I know, but look at these shrubs!”

When you get to be Peanuts and my age, you’re Christopher Columbus looking through the para-scope and spotting West Indies only instead of spotting the West Indies you’re spotting death.

Oh sure, you’re not there yet, but Death (and/or the West Indies) is looming on the horizon as big as life!

Gulp!

What Peanuts and I usually do when we find ourselves thinking about death is try not to think about death.  And amazingly, this tactic actually works. The thought process goes something like this:

Someday I’m going to die, which means I won’t exist anymore, which means I’ll be dead which means everything I have ever done in my life and everyone and everything I have ever loved in my life will be kaput and I shall never, EVER pass this way again . . . OK, well I guess I’ll go vacuum now.

When you really think about it, death is what motivates the human race to accomplish things because when we’re really busy getting a lot stuff done, it’s a lot easier to pretend we are never going to die.

I only hope that when it’s Peanuts and my turn to be sucked through that tunnel towards the light, that everything on the other side will have lived up to the term “to die for”.

Until next time  . . . I love you

Trifecta Weekend Writing Challenge Try 2: Herbert Huv Gets the Heave Ho!

This weekend’s Trifecta challenge is to write a story between 33 and 333 words using the picture for a prompt. 

 

Herbert Huv Gets the Heave Ho!

Herbert Huv’s wife, Hev, was about ready to give Herbert Huv the heave ho.  Hev Huv had had it with Herbert Huv’s hoarding.   Oh how Hev had hounded Herbert — yet Herbert was still hellbent on hoarding.

One day however Herbert Huv said he would hoard no more.  Hev Huv was so happy she hugged her husband Herbert Huv hard!  “How Heoric!” Hev Huv homaged.

It wasn’t until he added that he was also a hermaphrodite hooked on heroin that he got the heave ho.