Stories From The Head

A Happy Death Søppel was dying, and he knew it. He knew that in a couple of weeks, he would be no more. In a couple of weeks his body would lie rotting in the ground, and gypsies would be dancing on his grave. Søppel did not look forward to this. You see, Søppel was INCREDIBLY happy. He loved his life, and the thought of it ending was devastating. He had few friends, but was on friendly terms with everybody. He wasn’t married, but girls thought well of him, and children loved playing with him. Animals would up to him, wagging their tails and making cute animal-noises. And Søppel would embrace them and cuddle them. But not everyone was like Søppel. Three blocks from his house, a man had recently stabbed his father in the eyes. Søppel’s neighbor’s dog once ate a young girl’s hamster. A nephew of Søppel used to drown pigeons in acid, and an enthusiastic cannibal lived in a two-room apartment across the street. All of these would live long happy lives (the dog in dog-years, of course), so why did Søppel have to die? Well, his time was up. He had no more life in him, and it was Søppel’s duty to accept this. His main focus was now to have a happy death. He bought flowers and candles, got a haircut, and painted his bedroom purple. As he lay down on his newly made bed, he put on his favorite song (“I Will Never” – The Hobnobs). Søppel was happy. “Now I can die”, he thought to himself and closed his eyes for the last time. Several hours passed, but nothing happened. Søppel decided to get up and have a bagel. Then he went back to bed. Still nothing. “Hmmm”, he said out loud. “I’m supposed to be dead”. No answer. (Not that he expected one). Søppel closed his eyes again. He was getting a bit annoyed, but Søppel was not one to give up easily. After lying perfectly still for several hours more, he was getting pretty pissed off. Maybe his time wasn’t up after all. Maybe he was supposed to have a long life full of sorrow and joy. “Goddammit!” he hissed. “I thought I was gonna fucking die, but I guess some asshole decided to let me live”. He was furious. Two seconds later, he was dead on the floor. The song had stopped playing, he’d pissed himself, and the last thing he saw was his mother’s obituary in the evening paper. Just goes to show: You never die happy…

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