Short Story – Eddy Grant and AfterLife


Eddy Grant and the Afterlife

Hi, my name is Eddy, Eddy Grant.
On the contrary to most of your first thoughts, I am not the singer of the 1982 reggae hit ‘Electric Avenue’. I do have an island of hair from years of receding that very much resembles the country of Italy. My one and only claim to fame was as a contestant on the hit TV game show Countdown. I didn’t win. The only fact that you need to know about me is that I am dead.

The date of my confirmed death was September the eleventh, two thousand and eleven. That’s correct, it came on the very same day as the world was mourning the tenth anniversary of a travesty that affected millions. So, it is needless to say my passing barely made the local news, even then someone decided to use a photo of me after ten pints and a shot of sambuca.
I would love to tell you that I died in spectacular fashion, or even, as sadistic as it sounds, by means of a deadly disease with all my family at my side. Unfortunately death came in the form of one moment of idiocy.
I was the most average looking guy you will ever see, I wouldn’t stand out from a crowd with a clown suit on. I’m your plain old average Joe, or nice guy Eddy if you wish. I had a wife, not capable of setting off fireworks mind, but she had no deformities and was not just a woman, but a woman who actually had some inkling of interest in me. Confrontation was as much a stranger to me as my own father. I was overweight, lazy and couldn’t call a come back if someone was stood next to me holding cue cards. So, whatever possessed me to do what I did on September tenth is beyond me.

As time has no relevance to me any more, it comes of a shock that I remember vividly when the event took place. It was precisely 19:48, I know this because I was checking the time on my iPhone on my walk home from work. A brand new iPhone, that was brought outright, none of this contract nonsense. I passed a group of youths, who, to say politely wished to acquire my new gadget for free. This was my first and last time in my meaningless life I acted on standing up for myself. I remember the rush of blood to the head as I continuously told them to back off. This followed by a rush of blood from my chest as I was continually stabbed in the lung. I was pronounced dead at 02:11am.
I guess that gives me the perfect opportunity to highlight one of my many pieces of advice I wish to pass over to you on how to best live your life. Youths are youths, but as a group they are a deadly weapon, do not engage and hand over everything, even your dignity and your socks if that is what they want.
I know you will have your questions on dying, I can answer that simply; It’s painful, then its nothing, but a good nothing… There is no feeling any of you could ever have felt that I can even compare it to. You will have questions on the afterlife, that’s inevitable, those I cannot answer. I can tell you things like, when you are looking up to the heavens we are all having a right giggle, its more to the side, you should see yourselves. This place I’m in is run like a tight ship, I’m sixty percent certain I’ve signed a disclaimer preventing me from revealing too much.
My next piece of advice for your short and painful lives is mathematics. No matter how pointless you think it was a school, it is numbers that are actually the make up of absolutely everything. If you have any desire to understand the world you live in, then you must first learn to understand maths. Even the afterlife is a number, there are clues all over the Bible, you only need to read Genesis to realise how often the number seven comes up. Plus seven rhymes with heaven, short from the possibility God has a lisp, you can’t argue with poetry like that.

After love, the second best attribute you life forms posses is laughter, do it more. Even Mozart wrote a Canon entitled ‘Leck mich im Arsch,’ which translates as ‘Lick me in the arse.’ Everybody has a sense of humour. Even my boss, God if you prefer, there are a few animals and even plants he created just for a laugh. Again, everyone standing up with protest boards reading ‘Save the Manatees’ we are laughing at you too.
Jimi Hendrix was not one of you, oh wait, I’m not allowed to say any more on that.
Before laughter, is always Love. Every human on the planet
must feel love. There is no going through pearly gates if you’ve never experienced love. That does not mean because you are currently single that you will be damned to the depths of hell, or worse, are immortal. No, I didn’t love my wife; I got a telling off for swearing an oath before God. But as I said before, everyone has a sense of humour and the second I glanced my head downward in shame. There was Peter, Halo and all, laughing hysterically at a miniature version of the centre of, what was the great Roman empire. Besides, weeks after my death I watched as Mrs Eddy Grant climbed into bed for a middle age orgy with Mr and Mrs Phearson from No.27, it is now a regular past-time for my ‘loving’ wife.
Luckily I had loved before in the ghastly form that is my mother.
Before I take up any more of what really is precious time to you, I will thank you for wasting your life and reading this and remind you, the world itself is not beautiful. No, it is humans themselves that make it beautiful, through many forms. Art, photography, writing to name a few. These are the beautiful things, because you make the world seem beautiful.


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