Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #16 July 2015 | Page 8

Life’s a bummer. It doesn’t pick sides. It does
what it wants and doesn’t give a rat’s ass what I, you,
or anyone else thinks. That is how we wind up in inescapable situations, where our only options are to be
screwed, or to be more screwed.

And this one day, I managed to do both.
Ya see, I was supposed ta get married. We
rented the place, invited everyone we’ve ever known,
bought the cake, food, drinks, and clothes. This really
over the top party, which cost more than a year’s rent
on my first apartment, was supposed to be our first
step into marital bliss. That is until I got cold feet and
jumped the fence. Then ran for the hills. Literally.
That is how I got to be at that little duck pond.
Ah, that little goddamned pond. It looked more like a
petri dish, with its green swill around the edges and
strangely, no ducks. Or any life really. I think I saw
a grocery bag in it though. I was standing near a tree
trying to catch my breath—I’m not exactly a marathon
runner—when life had decided to make this random
hiker slip and plant face first in the water.
Now I’m not exactly a field full of daisies, but
I’m not from the depths of hell either. So since I was
decent at waddling through water, I managed to reach
her and pull her out. She started coughing up about a
gallon of water and then, poof, everything went blank.
Five jiffies later, I’m standing next to some
bald headed small man in a black suit and turtleneck.
I politely ask him who the hell he is, and he points
behind me. I turn around and see the hiker giving me
CPR.
“You’re dead,” he says.
Now at this point I’m getting confused. Then
he explains. Ya see, we’re free to roam our whole
lives. We do whatever we want, and life adjusts randomly. So when we for example, decide to go for a
walk an hour early, we might wind up walking into
our death. But since life adjusts randomly, sometimes,
it doesn’t pan out. Sometimes, an unlucky son-of-agun like me walks in right out of the blue and chang-

es destiny. Saves someone that was supposed to be,
strumming their harps or roasting on the eternal fire or
whatever the hell goes on in the afterlife.
And then, life gets pissed. So instead of moving on like we’re supposed to, we die right then and
there and get stuck playing Grim Reaper. We get to
have the immense pleasure of picking up the spirits
of people that croak, and herd them off into the afterlife through a big swirly portal thingy that leads to an
equally big hallway. We get a little list and everything.
So, I get to bob around and find people that
need to die. It’s potentially kinda fun, at least I get
to see a lot of stuff. Hell, I know how the Vikings
actually look like. Oh, I didn’t mention that, did I?
Yeah we move through time too. We stay and stare at
someone slipping on a banana peel, or being stabbed
by some asshole, or getting their head turned to mush
by a passing cart—that was a disgusting one—then
we get to handle the spirit. It’s not that hard when they
are confused, or sc