I'll be lying in a hospital bed looking at my toes at the far end.
My wife, the kids around me.
Maybe old Mike from next door.
Looks like he's going to win the dead pool after all.
A nurse I don't know.
Or no one at all.
Who wants to die in a hospital bed.
I always thought I'd be gone.
In the moment.
In the work.
But here we are.
The machine beeping.
The ceiling doing nothing.
A crow at the window.
I'm glad you came, brother.
Only takes two to make a murder.
Old bones.
Ready for my epiphany now.
The screenwriters in California assured me it would be along any minute.
The machine stops.
The last breath.
Fuck it.
The crow flies.
Paul Andrew Sneddon 