Blame this on Mereid, who put out a writing challenge on senad -- write a story that begins with the line: I am dead. The inevitable cannot be changed.
Inevitable
by Winds-of-Dawn
I am dead. The inevitable cannot be changed.
Death is supposed to be the opposite of life. But is it really? Heat and cold. Day and night. High and low. Young and old. Fire and water. Earth and rain. Yin and yang. Male and female.
Male and male.
What is death, in relation to life?
Life -- Jim and I, me and Jim. Together. Shopping for groceries, walking down the street, poring over case files. Jim, standing at the window, gazing out into the night after a particularly exhausting case. Me, bustling in the kitchen, cooking up a seven-course aphrodisiac meal. Jim, smiling down at me, with that funny little quirk of his mouth. Laughing at something I said, gazing indulgently as I rattle off obscure anthropological facts. Leaning over and kissing me just to shut me up. Me, arching up into Jim, gasping in delight. Smiling at each other over a hurried breakfast of toast and coffee. Riding in the truck beside Jim, yakking about nothing and everything. Jim, holding a gun, carefully making his way into an abandoned warehouse. Me, plastered to his back, carefully mirroring his every move. A blinding flash, the world turning deafening white, then red, then black.
I am dead. The inevitable cannot be changed.
My life is sealed. There is nothing I would change.
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