The dead man’s flight test

Felix wiped potato chip crumbs from his mouth with his sleeve. It was his favorite part of Breakfast at Tiffany’s: the scene where Holly throws the cat out into the rain in the heat of the moment. As always, tears sprung to Felix’ eyes and he felt deeply moved, but this time the wave of emotion was followed by a violent, stabbing pain in his side. He could not breathe and could not move. His entire body shuddered and reared up briefly one last time - and then Felix died. Blank and lifeless, he stared up at the ceiling of his room. "A dead light bulb makes a pretty bleak ceiling lamp", he thought to himself.

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His mind was clearer than it had been for a long time and he was aware of an incredible lightness. He felt really good. The weight of his bodily mass and his circumstances in life were no longer pressing down on his soul and he felt liberated from physical suffering - what had happened?

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Felix realized with amazement that he was moving toward the ceiling. He nervously paddled with his arms and legs; his centre of balance seemed to shift and eventually his body semi-turned lengthwise - and he saw himself sitting there in the armchair with a stony gaze.

He was not frightened. He was not shocked nor did he even feel any concern. He quickly realized what he was looking at. It was his own dead body, in his favorite chair, sitting in front of his favorite film - and he was most likely on his way to another world.

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Not dissatisfied with the situation, curious and a little excited about his uncertain future, he turned away from his corpse and floated further upward. But suddenly there was a bump!

His upward movement stopped. Like a balloon filled with gas, he collided gently with the ceiling next to the room lamp and his ascension into the unknown was interrupted. It seemed his matter - or energy or whatever it was - needed an open course to continue its journey. For a moment he thought of all the dead people in the coffins of the cemeteries, but he dismissed the thought soon after and concentrated fully on his dilemma.

"I have to get out!" he said softly to himself. Both his window and the entrance door were shut. If he had still been alive, he would have felt growing panic - but he was completely calm. He looked at his cold body and thought about how it could have happened and what he could have done differently. He recalled a certain sadness.

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Some time went by and he watched his corpse decay as if in time lapse. He had no sense of time and no conception of how long he had been staring at his dead body - and then there was a loud noise from behind the door. There was a crash and the door flew off its hinges. Three men from the fire department burst into his apartment. He saw the horrified faces of the firemen and watched one cover his mouth with his hand. In the hallway of his building he recognized his ex-wife, Linda - she gave a little cry and turned away.

"I haven’t seen you in years," thought Felix to himself. "Alright, let’s go!" he murmured, and it was as if one of the firemen had heard him. He flailed and kicked with all his might while moving slowly toward the entrance door. It appeared to have worked.

He reached the doorframe quickly. He was thrilled at how easy it was for him and soon he was in the hallway directly above his ex. "She always looked especially beautiful when she was crying," he thought to himself for a moment. All he needed to do now was to get to the elevator and wait for someone to use it. "I loved you!" he whispered to Linda. She was petrified. She stopped crying abruptly and ran toward the elevator as if the devil were clinging to her back. "Nice!" he grinned to himself.

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