Chronicle of a Corpse Bearer

by Cyrus Mistry

I might feel more sanguine about dancing at sundown to those unstoppable drumbeats as a method for mending my dislocated priorities.

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As an old man, I do feel remorse for my childish extravagances. But another part of me could never regard itself, or life, with such joyless earnestness.

so true

Perhaps life is like that: slippery, elusive, impossible to get a hold on. The difference between this moment and the next is only one of awareness. . . Yet we drift from morn till night, from day through week through months and years distracted, inattentive, and completely unprepared for the ambush—the moment of our inevitable extinction.

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