A Dying Wish

The second thing I remember is my 4th birthday party,
five red wax candles burning on a pink cake, the extra one for luck.
I see myself sitting on my father’s knee, and he is giving me
instructions about how to blow out the candles.  I see myself
finally failing this mission, my father and my mother both
helping me complete my well botched assignment.

The last thing I remember is that now my autobiography must suddenly be reduced
to a mere biography, some good friend finishing, and editing, my story, sadly,
because no one I know can write the story of his life up until the very moment of his death,
record for posterity that instant of the great leap into the afterword.

Wouldn’t it be great, I think, if I could be like William Holden, stone cold dead
in the opening scene of Sunset Boulevard, face down in a swimming pool,
yet by some magical means, like the many miracles achieved in Hollywood,
I might still be able to tell my story to the very finish from the Great Beyond.

* * * * *

Aloha #WriterWednesday. Today’s #WritingPrompt is


Use it to inspire a piece of writing, and then post that piece where I can read it. I would love to see what you write : )

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