When I first moved to this town, I drove off a cliff, flipped a few times, and landed wedged between two trees.
My last words were, "Oh my God! This is it!" and I closed my eyes and surrendered.
The airbag failed to deploy.
blackout
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I opened my eyes, and looked around, I was still in the vehicle in the trees. I had to kick the door open to get out. After climbing carefully out of the vehicle and up the cliffside back to the road, I realized something. I have not a single scratch or scar or cut or bruise of any sort on me.
The town I moved to, over half the houses are empty. Everything is trashed, ninety percent of the cars have dents all over them. Nothing here is in mint condition. The number one dog breed is pitbulls.
Every time I shake someones hand, I almost always get the remark "Dang your hands are cold."
Yesterday I got bit by a pitbull, it punctured my skin. I did not bleed. My wound feels fake.
Today I was out at midnight walking my dog. I let him off the leash, and I was dragging the leash behind me. It is a chain leash. It felt natural.
Am I dead or am I live? I do not know but my memory is failing me. My past is a haze, a cloudy blur of barely discernible events and imagery.
All my neighbors and friends here, every single one of them, has had a 'near death experience'. I am going to go out on a limb and say it was not near death. It was real death.
This is my town, this is Westwood. Welcome to the waiting room of the afterlife.
Bonus!!!
A view from my porch.
My neighbor Todd.
