I am on the stretcher.
I am being driven across the hallway.
From outside of our body, I can see the drawers full of dead bodies. I watch them open to greet me. The papers inside rustle, forms into the shape of the people they were in their living world, ready to accept me as one of them.
Process and Mags scream. I guess because they didn’t know this was the reality of life after death. You become paperwork.
One of them lifts me up. I think I recognize her. I don’t remember her name. We played Bingo together a few years ago. When I heard she was gone, I cried.
Process is fighting her, trying to grab me back, but it’s hopeless. As she lowers me into the dark, I accept that she doesn’t remember me. I feel oddly okay with all of this.
The love from Dr. Process washes over me as I realize that the rest of my life as paperwork will be full of spite.