By Erick Buendia
He didn’t know how he died. He didn’t know much about anything. All he knew was that he woke up from a long nap.
He didn’t know why people ignored him. It could be his clumsy nature of bumping into people and shelves, or that his gaze wouldn’t meet your eyes but instead go through you. He was the embodiment of radio static, nothing.
A shadow, out at night and destroyed by the light. The only light he found was sitting on the other end of a lonely kid’s seesaw and hearing him giggle as he launched him in the air.
Nicely done. You pull it off so effortlessly, I’d love to see what you’d have done with a few extra hundred words.
Great play on the idea of a dead person in limbo.
Amazingly exciting with fantastic expression. Well done, Eric.