When the Lights Stop Flashing

When the lights stop flashing, my countenance sinks. I feel an ebbing life wisp through the air, ruffling my mind. Someone's granddad just died.

When the lights stop flashing, I sigh as I drive. I'm heading somewhere important, but my presence lags behind. Someone's wife just died.

When the lights stop flashing, I hear my mom's voice. Her sensitive lilting irritates my conscience, and I rage it away. Someone's mother just died.

When the lights stop flashing, I think of my youth. I wonder when it left and adulthood came. Someone's child just died.

When the lights stop flashing, a smile tugs at my cheek. A profane contentment warms me within, and I feel gratitude. I am very much alive.