He was not afraid. He was ready. Contrary to popular belief, he was not turning to God in his most helpless moment. After 70 years of being an atheist, he had completely lost that feeling. Death was always there and always an option. Life had given him a long life. He had been able to live every day as if he would die tomorrow, and when he looked back, he saw that he had lived. Like everything else, all that experience would be lost in history.
Suddenly he felt a chill. It was as if he was cooling down in a hot water, along with the water, and a light wind was tearing off small pieces of his skin. On the one hand, an incredible sense of relief, on the other hand, a feeling of unease that he had never felt before.
He wanted to scratch his skin with his hand, but he was having trouble even moving his fingers due to the fatigue and heaviness he had felt in recent days. The time had come. As he had imagined years ago, he was not simply disappearing in his room. He was hearing sounds that he could not understand. He wondered if they were crying behind me or had already started celebrating. The wailing, shouting, and tons of tears at the funerals he had attended had always seemed meaningless to him. He thought that life would continue for those who were crying. He had always admired the dance and music-filled funerals he had seen in different countries years ago and had always wished for celebrations after his…
