Death, be proud

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I talked to him at ten in the morning. At eleven he had a massive coronary and was gone. Just like that. Leaves you sort of numb. Especially because I suspect he rather enjoyed life. Just before he left he told me "Will see you later". Now I wonder what on earth he meant by that. Did he have some kind of premonition. I doubt that. After all what else do you tell a friend. And yet.

I couldn't see the hand of death holding him. He looked so vibrant, so full of that ethereal stuff - life. Death doesn't smell. Not immediately anyway. It didn't take away his smile, either. Now here. Now gone. Period.

I guess i have to get used to the idea. That he won't be seeing me around here. A smile that actually warmed me up somewhat will never beem upon me again.

Odd. Adieu.