The Corpse.

[Kitosdad]

I lay in my coffin, unable to open my eyes to the world, but aware of the muffled noises going on around me. The low murmur of voices, and the soft sounds of music coming from an organ somewhere in the background.

The mellow tones on the parson as he recites a few words about me and my past life.
What a wonderful person I had been, and how badly I would be missed by my many friends.
The good times that we had all enjoyed in each others company.

I smiled inwardly as I listened to the parson.
Just how many of the assembled congregation were really moved by these words?
How many didn't really give a damn at my passing, and indeed, how many were more than happy to see me gone?
The heady aroma of the flowers heaped around my coffin were making me feel a little nauseous, and I imagined the surprise of the congregation if I were to sit up and sneeze!
Of course, this could never happen. I was dead wasn't I.

It is a fallacy to believe that death removes our awareness of the existing world.
We are only made immune to pain, and unable to activate our motive capabilities.
This means that we must lie there like corpses, which is what we are, whilst all manner of things are done to us.

After the service I am being driven to the cemetery and again, prior to being lowered to the damp earth, I can hear the parson reciting yet another well trodden verse.
" Ashes to ashes, dust to dust."Blah, blah, blah.
I want to tell him to get on with it, and have these people go to their homes and get on with their miserable lives.

I never was one for socialising, and how so many "friends" attended my funeral is a complete mystery to me.
Perhaps they were hoping that I had remembered them in my Will.

I've lain hear many months now. I feel neither cold, hungry or thirsty.
I can hear the slithering of the worms that have managed to work through the minute cracks in my expensive casket, and I hold no animosity toward them as they go about their work of consuming my miserable corpse.

I've had a good life by my modest standards.
I've lived life to the full, and I've enjoyed every minute of it, unfortunately sometimes at the expense of others, but eh, that's not like me to be considerate of the feelings of others.
I've had a great life and have done things my way, at my convenience.
I've drank, and gambled, and cheated on many women, never once feeling any remorse for my actions.
My needs have always been placed well above the needs of others who depended on me.
What good would it have done for me to have led a good life, being kind and thoughtful .... none..... everyone dies, even the "good" people.

Hey, what's happening? The ground beneath my casket seems to be opening, and I can't believe it ... someone is calling my name...it's getting hot in here.... what's going on? Help, I'm falling, falling, falling.........................

:) :) :) Kitos.
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Keep it simple ... Keep it interesting.

[SkiIucK]

Now, it takes a beyond-average imagination to conceive something like this. Bows.

[Kitosdad]

Thanks Ski, I penned it for a chuckle. I've become drained of themes and I only thought of this in the "dead" of night. :) :)

Gimme' a fresh theme will you please?.

Kitos.
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Keep it simple ... Keep it interesting.

[Someone]

[Kitosdad]

You devil. :) :)
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Keep it simple ... Keep it interesting.

[SkiIucK]

Off the top of my head, "The Good, the Bad, and the Middle".

[Gray]

Two friends trekking the Mount Everest and one of them decides to sacrifice his own life to save the other.....

Condition -- the end should be happy ;)
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First lesson - English, not english. I, not i. ~A student of English

[Kitosdad]

I said a theme, not a film. :) :)

Mr. Good was on a lone hiking trip when he found himself in the Middle of a really Bad storm.
He thought it was a Good idea to shelter from the storm, but not in the Middle of this forest. He hurried to a tavern that he could see in the distance. When he arrived at its door he discovered it was called Middle Warren.
What a Bad name thought Mr. Good, but he entered and took a seat at the Middle of the counter.
The waitress appeared and he asked if there was anything Good on the menu.
"Well, there's nothing Bad really, and if you look in the Middle of the menu you will see that we do a Good Chinese special".

"Do you have any Middle back bacon?," he asked.
"No sorry, she replied. We usually do have and mushrooms, but they go Bad so quickly in this warm weather."

At that the door opened and in walked the local farmer Mr.Middle.
"Evenin'," he boomed. Bloody Bad weather this. Right in the Middle of harvesting too."
Mr. Good smiled and agreed that indeed, the weather was Bad.
"Where you headin' then?," asked the farmer.
"Well, nowhere in particular. Just out for a Good stroll until this lot blew up."
"Good job for you that this place was open then.Not a Good spot to be caught in the Middle of a Bad storm like this."
"You're right about that," said Mr. Good.
" My name is Middle by the way," said the farmer."If this weather doesn't improve I'll give you a lift into the village. There's a Good bus service operating there. Prices ain't Bad either.
"Well, that's very Good of you Mr.Middle," said Mr. Good. "Maybe I can do you a Good turn in return. In the Middle of my pack is a moonstone and it is reputed to keep away Bad weather. It's no Good to me but perhaps it will bring you some Good luck."

Sorry Ski, this is rubbish, and I can't continue..........................

Kitos.
_________________
Keep it simple ... Keep it interesting.

[Kitosdad]

Bill and Maurice were two very experienced mountain climbers. They had been friends since their early school-days and both had had their imaginations fired by their school master, who would read them stories about Sir Edmund Hillary and the brave Sherpas' who had carried their equipment up Mount Everest in 1953, many years before they were born.

They had joined a climbing club shortly after leaving school at fifteen years old, and they both took to mountain-climbing as though born to the task.
They did their early climbing in the company of their experienced instructors, but pretty soon they were allowed to climb unaccompanied.
They made a great team and each had absolute confidence in the capabilities of the other.

Bill had inherited a vast fortune on the death of his Father, and with the money he and Maurice travelled the length and breadth of the continent, scaling every mountain that they came across.
Their fame travelled before them, and pretty soon they opened their very own climbing school.
Trainees came from all over the world to be trained by them in the art of climbing and survival.

After several very successful years in the business, they decided that they wanted to do something more interesting with their lives, and so they sold the business and had a holiday in the Alps.

It was whilst holidaying that Maurice came up with the idea that they should try to scale Everest.
Bill, who had never before backed out of an adventure was a little wary of this. He pointed out that most of their climbing had been on mountains that were not subject to the notoriously harsh conditions of Everest. Maurice appeared disappointed at his mate's decision, but he accepted it. No use climbing with one unhappy team member.

The next day Maurice awoke to find that Bill had already left the apartment. He went into the restaurant expecting to find him there but he was nowhere in sight.

After a couple of hours Bill returned to the hotel. He was all smiles.
He said that he had been researching routes and weather forecasts for the coming days, and it appeared that it was feasable that they could have a crack at climbing Everest.
Maurice was overjoyed and they set about immediately hiring Sherpas' for the climb.

Two days later they set off on their long trek.The weather was just as Bill had been told, and he was confident that they could make it to the peak and back in record time.
The higher they climbed the more difficult it became. Their breathing was laboured in the thin air, and they were happy when they reached the point where they would make their final camp, and where their Sherpas' would remain.

With only four hundred feet to climb they set off in high spirits. The weather was glorious and they were confident that they would reach the peak within six hours.
After only one hundred feet things became really difficult. The ground was mostly shale and they constantly lost their footing. They had to constantly hammer their pitons deep and fasten their ropes securely. One slip here could mean certain death, and they both knew it well.

They laboured on, and six hours later they eventually reached the summit. They were exhausted but elated. They had climbed the South-West face of Everest. What a story to relate to their friends.

It was late afternoon as they set-off back down the mountain. The darkening sky did not bode well for them and they tried to move as quickly as they were able.
It was imperative that they reached camp before this weather broke. All too soon the weather did break, and they found themselves being bombarded with sleet and driving rain.
They had to keep moving. They would surely die if they stayed here on the face of the mountain.
They were alarmed by a sudden rumble above them, and turning to face the noise they became aware of the starting of a tremendous rock-slide. Bill saw a huge rock hurtling toward Maurice, and knowing that it was too late to yell a warning, he flung himself at his friend.
Maurice slid away and hung by his life-line, but Bill was struck by the huge boulder and started to plummet down the face of the mountain, all the while being bombarded by boulders and heavy shale.
He came to rest forty feet from the Sherpa's tent and they rushed out to attend him.
The rock-slide slowly abated and Maurice continued on his way down, but now alone.

It took him a further three hours to reach the camp, and he was filled with horror to be told that Bill was dead.

The sorry party finally reached Tibet, and the body of Bill was flown back to England. Maurice followed after attending to the formalities of filing the accident report and other official regulations.

The funeral was attended by hundreds of fellow climbers and Maurice was touched by the many tributes paid to his life-long friend.

It was a few days later that Maurice was contacted by Bill's solicitor. It appeared that Bill had left his entire fortune to Maurice.

So that's where he had disappeared to that morning in Tibet Maurice thought.He obviously had doubts that we would make the climb without accident, and had made his Will in the Tibetan township.

Kitos.
_________________
Keep it simple ... Keep it interesting.

[Someone]

To have really happy ending there must be an unexpected Bill's rise from the dead ;-)
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Please do not hesitate to correct my language mistakes.

[Gray]

Oh yes, how about Bill returning after a year? ;)

But that would only make it more dramatic and less real :)
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First lesson - English, not english. I, not i. ~A student of English

[Someone]

Not a bit more dramatic then it is now ;-)
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Please do not hesitate to correct my language mistakes.