There’s an half opened door before me, the ray of light peeks through it and I make note of indistinct chatter and giggles of little girls’ voices that comes from within.
“If one day, mother dies, I would not be surprised” I heard as I got closer...”As for father, I won’t even shed a tear” a chuckle followed after.
“Won’t you wish to know how death feels like?” My younger self questioned my sister, Quincy.
“It depends...” Quincy giggled before asking “ What exactly kills me?”
I opened the door and see no one. Both my younger self and Quincy had vanished.
I remember I had that conversation years ago with my sister. We had been joking about death and what kills us.
I guess the jokes are on me now.
I close back the doors in expectations of hearing our discussion once more, but as I di
