Space was not the final frontier and neither was death. It had been weeks since he had left his physical body and yet he knew his life was far from over. He didn’t know how to classify the realm in which he currently existed. It wasn’t space, it wasn’t Heaven, it wasn’t Purgatory and it certainly wasn’t Hell. It simply felt like what he imagined it would be like in the womb. The sounds around him undulated and he felt like he was floating.
If he could not recall certain parts of his life, those memories slowly returned as if they were on a trailer reel of a film. It all seemed highly illogical but it was happening and he could not ignore the scenes as they played in his head. Familiar faces drifted to the forefront of his mind and he knew them all by name.
The face that lingered the longest was of a man he had known well. William. His name was William. As the details of William’s face became more pronounced in his memory, he became overwhelmed with emotion, something he had done his best to conceal throughout his life.
Images rushed by now, tumbling over themselves to make room for others and, as the last pieces seemed to fall into place, the movie of his life began. He watched his childhood, he witnessed himself as a young man falling in love for the first time and he watched as he tried his first cigarette. He turned away and the movie paused. That moment frozen on the screen was the beginning of his end.
He focused once more on the show and watched the legacy he helped build, in his personal life and his career. The words he uttered many times on-screen came true in more ways than one in his life and, even though this life no longer existed, he would still live long and prosper in the minds of those who loved him.
Written for the Grammar Ghoul Challenge – In memory of Leonard Nimoy the word prompt is illogical and the visual prompt is a scene from Star Trek II – The Search for Spock. I was extremely sad when he passed. I spent many of my childhood years watching Star Trek and, in many ways, Leonard Nimoy reminded me of my dad. LLAP.