To say that my time here was a complete waste is in no way an accurate statement. In fact, the time spent here was something I will cherish forever. The good times, the people met and the experience as a whole was simple refreshing. That isn't to say there wasn't any bad times. In some cases, the bad memories seemed to trump the good ones.
It all started one day when I received a call from the city morgue. It was a pale day and the sun seemed to be fighting its way through the cloud cover but never managed to break the silver lining. I cool breeze blew through the window and gave me a damp feeling despite the fact that it was an autumn day and rain wasn't in the forecast. I look back at it and think to myself, perhaps it was a premonition. Whatever the case may have been, the day was quite ordinary. I had my paper, my favorite spiced tea and the neighbor was pruning his array of exotic fauna. An interesting man to say the least. I will never forget his name...Chives Kensington. I think he was from London. Nice man but too obsessive over his flowers. Forgive me, I seemed to have strayed from my tale. I do have Attention Deficit Disorder after all. Anyway, it was that phone call that seemed to baffle me beyond belief. All of my relatives were gone; either dead or living far away. I had no family anywhere near me and as for friends...well lets just say I have had one to many people walk in and out of my life to even attempt to get close to anyone again without getting hurt. I was puzzled!
The phone call was rather brief. The woman on the other line seemed very unenthusiastic and there was a rather listless tone in her voice. I suppose being a mortician does that to people. What a rather grim line of work. Anyway, she told me about how I needed to, and I quote "leave the city, have a new experience and meet new people..." It was rather strange seeing as she hung up after that, but maybe she was right. A change of scenery would perhaps put some color back into my life and brighten up my future...but I did have my spiced tea, and that was all the color I needed. Whoever this woman was I wanted to find her and thank her, until I saw her on the evening news in handcuffs for abusing '1-800 Collect' to call random people. Seems she was inhaling the fumes from the formaldehyde jars in the morgue. Gave her a nasty trip. Poor woman. Either way, I am going to take her advice, however eccentric it might have been. A new life is what I need and I set out the following morning. Putting my home up for sale seemed like too much of a process, so I set it ablaze instead. Don't worry, I had home owners insurance in case I ever felt the need to do such a thing. I decided to use my insurance check to fund my little expedition out into the world in search of a new life and maybe some new friends, if I felt I could trust them. Oh but I did leave the last of my spiced tea back in my now rather well done home. What a shame. It came all the way from Bombay and was such nuisance to have imported. Shipping fees, international treaties and those pesky people with the long beards and attitudes in Iraq made it all so inconvenient. I will admit, a tear did roll down my cheek. However, life must go on. Into the world I go.
