I died today. Or last year maybe. I don't know. I got a text from the coach: "2k will kill you. Won't get any homework done tonight. Faithfully yours." That didn't mean anything at the time. Maybe it was last year.
The boat house is in Marina Del Rey, about 20 miles from Sherman Oaks. I'll take the 2:30 bus and get there at 4:15. That way I can change at home, come dressed for the vigil, and be back in choir the next morning. I asked my teachers for the night off and they couldn't say yes. I had no excuse. And they weren't happy about it. I wanted to try "it's not my decision," but it is, somehow. They were collectively silent. Then I thought I shouldn't have asked at all. After all, I had no reason to slack off. I'm the one who should have prioritized. But I'll probably catch up the day after tomorrow, when I have to return from mourning. For now, it's almost as if I hadn't died. After the funeral though, I can get back to work and everything will be turned in.
Eric, excellent mimicking of Camus's narrative voice! I love it!
ReplyDeleteI like that you're attending your own funeral. I think the writing in Camus' style was very interesting, and you give off a very nonchalant attitude to your own death. I really liked when you say "For now, it's almost as if I hadn't died" even more then when Camus uses it to talk about Maman, because if you had actually died you wouldn't even be able to describe any of this, so in a sense it is like you didn't die at all.
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