“Einerson Cyndric, 83, passed away peacefully at London Bridge hospital. He was a peaceful old man. Never married, nor father of children but loved by family and friends.”

A short obituary in the local newspaper, written by my sister. This was all that was left of me already, all my life resumed in a few black line on paper. Not even a small picture ...

And I had only passed away just two weeks ago … *sigh*

As you may have expected while reading my age, I had the chance to die peacefully during my sleep. Around 3am on a monday morning, to be precise.

Guess I now have another good reason to hate mondays …

Anyway, after I died, the various medical instruments attached to my body went crazy, loudly echoing an incessant *biiiip* *biiiip* *biiip* noise. Noise which was extremely annoying by the way. Fortunately for me and the other patients, a cute nurse with a scowl on her face quickly came to unplug the various devices that had kept me alive for the past few month, not even bothering to try to resuscitate me ...

Well, I was a very old man, I had been on my last leg for a few month already. So that could be understood, in a way …

Young people are not what they used to be, I will tell you that ! Always slacking off !

Of course, she made the appropriates checks, going “Yup, he’s dead” along the way, and properly recording the precise date and time of my death on some board she pulled from who know where.

Know that, even in death, you are not safe from the administration ...

Anyway, that’s how I know that it was around 3am on a monday.

Of all the days in a week, It just had to be a monday …

But, rambling aside … Once all the devices were properly disconnected, she left, yawning, to take care of other patients, or go back to sleep… or whatever a tired nurse on guard do to pass the time between unplugging dead old men / women and saving people.

Definitely not a dream job ...

Then, the day after, around midday, I was taken away from the individual room and brought to the morgue. I had had the good idea during my lifetime to give my corpse to science. Just so that it could be useful for something after my death. And from there I had pretty much lost track of my corpse as I remained in the bedroom.

Had you asked me if I believed in life after death while I was alive, I would have said no.

At the time, I believed that there was simply nothing after death. That the electric activity of your brain stopped, and with it, all that could be called ‘you’ would go *poof* and disappear.

But guess what, I was wrong !

When you die, you turn into a blue colored, eco friendly, bedside lamp !

If that’s not the most amazing shit EVER, then I don’t know what is … *sigh*

So, as you can guess, I have now changed my opinion on the whole life after death subject. Mostly due to my newly acquired ghost/floaty soul state ...

And from there I logically started to think that there should be something after death beside being a ghost, whatever that something may be ...

I personally chose to believe that a magnificent prince with pale blonde hairs and blue eyes would come on a white horse, and deliver from this state while declaring his unending love to me. I would give him three children and we would all live happily in his castle for the rest of our days.

Ah … how romantic … *Sigh*

Except with my luck that would probably be shrek and donkey ...

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Now, joke aside, you may ask yourself, why do you think that there should be something after ? Well otherwise there would be far too many ghost wandering around the world, and I would definitely not be the only bedside lamp in this room.

Not sure about the death rate in this big hospital, but one per day seems reasonable right ?

Yet I hadn’t met another ghostly gentleman during my whole stay here …

Not like i’m bothered by it ... I have been used to loneliness for years …

It’s no wonder I started holding monologues in my head …

Anyway, because of this new afterlife theory I had, I began wondering about quite many things.

About what there would be after death ? Heaven and hell ? Reincarnation ? Giant tentacle monster ?

About whether I would be worthy enough to go to heaven or have a good reincarnation ? I’m pretty sure I don’t deserve something like hell but I’m also certain that I didn’t do many thing that made me deserve heaven ...

Also about whether having my body left intact was or not an important thing … because I was pretty sure there would be nothing much left of it by now ...

If this story had been in a last judgement based zombie apocalypse setting, I would have been screwed ...

Well, note that it would give the intern the interesting opportunity to dissect someone with an axe … provided they had axes down at the morgue…

Pretty sure that should be a must have. You know, just in case...

Oh, by the way, another thought I also had was about whether a ghost could have spied on me during the most intimate moments of my life. A frightening thought when coupled to the realisation that the most likely ghosts to visit you would probably be dead family member …

*Brrr* Let’s not think about that, ever again.

If, for you, that’s not a good reason for ghost not to hang around in the living world,

Then you are probably one creepy mortherfucker.

Not like i’m judging … if my remaining family could have acces to my browsing history ….

*clear throat* Anyway, moving on ...

As you can see, I had done a lot of thinking. Well, until that last thought at least, after that one I had tried my best to occupy myself differently.

Which was hard, dick joke aside, since I was trapped in this room...

You know, In movies, they always make ghost as scary thing that can interact with the living. Making object fall from shelves and other creepy/funny stuff. But guess what, they were completely wrong, I can do no such thing, I couldn’t even figure out how to move from the particular spot I was at … let alone moving things with some magical power ...

Yup … That’s one hell of a ghost, right ?

Thus, why I was trapped in this room and couldn’t follow my dead body on his grand adventure to the crematorium … maybe my remaining family would sometime think about me while vacuuming the floor ...

Anyway, the ghost me remained motionless right above the bed of the single room for which I had payed for. Since then, of course, another sickly old man on it’s last rope had taken residence in the room. This was an hospital after all, not a charity…

Thus introducing my new ghostly pastime :

Watching an old person slowly wither and die while counting the number of time he pisses himself !

Old steve right here was fast approaching the grand record of 72,

Record held to this day by its greatest rival and current champion,

old dying me from two weeks ago.

Yeaaah …. *sigh*

Anyway … Thanks to that, I had been able to read my own obituary while steve, the new guy, was reading the newspaper. My obituary was in a small box on the upper left, on one of the last pages. You know, one of those spot that won’t cost too much money ...

From that I had deduced that it was the doing of my sister, that old woman was the last one in the family which remotely cared about paper journals … one of her numerous antics.

I had also given her my password so I guess an announcement of my death had also ended on facebook. Not that anyone but old fart would go there those days … youngster had moved to other social media a very long time ago, before I was even thirty something ...

Now that I think about it, it pisses me off that most of the old fart that I didn’t like had somehow managed to live longer than good old me… and to stay young while they were at it ...

Immortality pills are way too fucking expensive for common folk … they don’t even make you immortal per say, they just stop aging completely. The name is just another stupid commercial maneuver to hook people … a rather effective one at that ...

But guess what, those old fart would forever be missing on all those amazing experiences !

Like being a bedside lamp and … being …  eco friendly … *sigh*

Mah, fuck it ... just my luck again.

Heaven better be goddamn awesome, else their manager will hear me !

Anyway, moving on, literally this time …

After another boring couple of week passed, a light tunnel appeared, and I was finally taken away from the smelly hospital bedroom. Gonna miss the mixed smell of formol and old people, I will tell you that !

By the way, just for the record, my last thought on earth was definitely something along the lines of :

“That’s about time, you fuckers !”