She first realised she was dead when she heard the sound.
Someone was clapping.
Even before her eyes opened her mind registered everything. No one had clapped in front of her for ages.
Not in the hospital room, where she lay with 16 bones in her body broken.
Not in her job, where she worked eight hours straight with only a lunch break.
Not in her marriage, that ended two years back.
The last time someone clapped so loudly was when she was 15 and dancing.
The red top, the black skirt, the red shoes with the small white socks.
Her partner, in black pants and a blue shirt, and a black tie.
They were laughing and spinning, their faces flushed with all the dancing, and the excitement, and the warmth of the heater in that cold winter evening.
The music was blasting out of a two in one, and the man sang about dancing in the dark.
They looked at each other and laughed when the song stopped. Out of breath and slightly giddy. But he didn’t let go off her hand, and the minute the next song started, they jumped right in.
Laughing and spinning again. This time she couldn’t even remember what the song was, all she could remember was the way her legs moved, her hands crossed, her feet slithered and bumped and tapped. And it felt like they were one.
That’s when she heard the clapping. All the people around, clapping, like they could feel it too.
Like they knew, she was free. Never to be trapped, never to caught, never to be beaten.
Now as the nurse unplugged the monitor that had fallen silent. As she removed the clipboard that hung at the foot the bed. As she picked up the sheet to cover bed number 12's face, she noticed the smile.
A tiny smile on a dead face.
Images of broken light which
dance before me like a million eyes
That call me on and on across the universe
Thoughts meander like a
restless wind inside a letter box
they tumble blindly as
they make their way across the universe
lyrics @ the beatles. picture @ http://www.ehow.com