I feel I was particularly sensible on the night that I died

Wednesday has rolled around again. This week we’re venturing to the future! Enjoy the story.

A beep interrupted my oblivion.

A second followed it. A third. I lost count as they established a rhythm. My eyes ached to blink but muscles wouldn’t move. My throat burned.

No, air moving against it. “He’s alive.” The voice echoed my realization. I just wished I knew who I was. Oblivion reclaimed me.

This time my eyes obeyed. Opening them I saw… white. I swear if heaven lacked color…

A face appeared, red hair tumbled over a woman’s shoulder and blue scrubs. Ahh, color. “Mr. Cain?” she asked? Yes, that was my name. I opened my mouth and rasped. I frowned, and she smiled. “Don’t worry Mr. Cain. Your vocal cords need time, but it’s good you tried.”

A few minutes of nonsense, small talk and she left, leaving me with the white again.

I sat wishing for a window. I craved to see the sky, grass. Heck, even city grunge. Anything. There weren’t windows though. I’d been told that more than once.

“Mr. Cain.” I sighed it was the man again. The inspector. I turned and scowled. “Mr. Cain, are you ready to talk?”

I shrugged. It didn’t matter what I was ready for.

“Mr. Cain.” He closed the door behind him. “I want you to tell me about that night.”

“What’s there to tell.” I’d thought I was sensible that night. I’d thought cryogenics was my escape to the future. I should’ve known the law would be waiting. Murder had no statute of limitation.

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