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UAT Student Work Feature: What a Way to Go

            The first time you die is a terrifying ordeal. The second time you die, however, is often shockingly mundane.

            We spend so long fighting the inevitable, wasting our lives in fear of death. Entropy is inescapable. The Universe is slowing down. More stars are dying than being born. When every star goes out, and all heat in the universe is snuffed out, there will be no escape.

            Modern science is a marvel. To use advanced arithmetic to achieve perfect balance of the humors and allow one who has died to return to the living is no small feat. Of course, it requires that this person be missing no vital organs, has not previously expired, and been placed in cryostasis shortly after their demise. Otherwise, it’d obviously be impossible work for the witches to accomplish.

            Not all of us are given the gift of a second death. Many times, it happens in a blink, barely enough time to register, “This is it,” before the headsman’s axe comes down or a stray laser bolt bores a hole through your cerebral cortex.

            But for those of us lucky enough to get a second death, we are the few who get the chance to die right. Practice does make perfect after all. Those in their first death scramble for an escape, clawing at the walls. We instead embrace the reaper as an old friend we knew would come to visit us. We clasp forearms and bump fists like we’ve known each other forever. In fairness, that’s because we have.

Death has watched us since birth, and while at first, we see him as a stalker in the tree outside our window with binoculars, he’s really just an old family friend making sure we go down the correct path in life. That is to say, the path towards not-life.

So now, my time has come. Again. I lay here in this hospital bed, surrounded by loved ones and close friends. From my wife and kids, to the druids, and the Martian colonials. I think about how glad I was to have had the chance to get to know them, to love them, to cherish every moment…

Those thoughts flooding my brain however are drained away like the Nile Desert when my greatest, oldest friend walks in. He holds a six pack in one hand and beckons I come to share my stories. I’m glad that this time I get to give him the respect that he so well and truly deserves.