Sitting up, the first thing Gordy noticed was how easy it was. After a moment's brief reflection on this, he turned and saw himself still lying in the bed. He looked peaceful, he thought, and wondered if this might be a dream. Of course not, he chastised himself, this is it. Images swirled about him then, remembrances of life, family, friends.
When it cleared again, he was no longer in his bed. He stood to one side of a room where chairs were arranged in rows. Where they faced, the room was ringed in flowers around a casket, his casket. Over it draped a flag. I'm glad they brought that, he thought. It's fitting. As he watched, relatives and friends took seats. A pleasant-looking man in a minister's robes came in last and had them all stand again. Gordy chuckled a bit.
The service was brief and Gordy enjoyed listening to the South African accent of the minister. I like his sense of humor, Gordy thought. Not bad for never having met me.
The stars on the flag grew brighter then, catching Gordy's eye. Their brilliance swelled to fill his vision. When it faded, he was in a kitchen. Friends were all around and much liquor flowed. They told stories, some of which involved him but many that were just interesting to listen to. He felt a tug on his heart, as if there was someplace else he should go. But then they would toast him again and he'd remain for a while longer.
Eventually, the drink ran out, the songs were all sung and the friends went their separate ways. Gordy followed the tug. It led first across the landscape of his city and then through time and space across his life. Eventually, things grew dark all 'round as the cloudy sky on a December night. A single star shown in that darkness and pulled him nearer.
Soon the light of the star illuminated a mist about him. He could see the star as a brighter spot in the glowing mist and pushed onward. When he seemed very close to the light, the mists parted.