PROCRASTINATOR
When he opened his eyes in the morning, he was seventy years old and it was time to re-evaluate his life. He sat
behind his desk and carefully recorded all his unfulfilled dreams one by one. The list was long.
It started with his well crafted plot to kiss the girl next door at age twelve. The failure to accomplish this mission
had taken a heavy toll on him. Later in life he’d kissed so many yet none replaced the one he never had.
A few years later, he witnessed a deprived man stealing a piece of bread. The shame on the poor man’s face the
moment he was caught was engraved on the young man’s soul.
He vowed to eradicate poverty. As a mature adult however, he learned to think with his head instead of his heart
and became distracted by his endless business responsibilities and totally forgot this noble aspiration.
The list also included his goal to become successful. This one seemed to be achieved already. He was incredibly
rich and he had so many people around him to remind him of his accomplishments. However, now his definition
of success had changed. He had reached a point in his life, that everything that meant something to him was
proven to be meaningless. All his priorities in life had turned out to be absurd. He was back to square one at age
seventy.
After he thoroughly contemplated his life and fully grasped the depth of his failure and before he had a chance
to take any action to reverse the course, he died.
His sudden death came as a shock to him. He was not prepared to die yet. The worst part was that he didn’t
remember how it happened. He was surely alive and well when he gave an exciting speech, “The Secrets of
Success” as a distinguished member of his country club just a few nights ago. He had a vivid recollection of that
event and the next thing he remembered was a relaxing nap in his luxurious casket. The entire affair with death
was vexing. He was puzzled over the cause of his own death.
He had every reason to suspect his close friends first and then his countless enemies for his unexpected
departure. After all, he was too wealthy to die of natural causes as stated in his death certificate. He was too
cynical to believe in a simple death. He knew someone had outsmarted him by cutting his life short. Death didn’t
bother him as much as the element of surprise.
From the very moment he realized he was dead, he was preoccupied with revenge, from whom, he didn’t know
yet. At the beginning he was irritated to learn that all his power, his wealth and his endless connections meant
nothing in this new world. Then he started familiarizing himself with his new life style. It took him sometime to
settle in and fully understand his rights and responsibilities as a Dead and to acclimate himself to his new
existence. He also became aware of his powers and limitations as a ghost.
One of the advantages of his new existence was the abundance of true friends, friends who wanted nothing from
him but his companionship. This feature of death was very appealing to him. But he didn’t have time for
friendship, as he was obsessed with his new priorities. His first order of business was to consult his fellow spirits
on the subject of revenge.
As creative and intelligent as he was, he quickly acquired necessary skills and learned many innovative ways to
kill people. He managed to indiscriminately destroy so many lives to avenge his murder.
Seventy years after his death, he evaluated his life after death. All his priorities once again were proven to be
meaningless. He wasn’t even sure he was murdered and if he was, it didn’t bother him anymore. He was back to
square one.
As he was contemplating his life and death, a fellow ghost who’d been dead for seven thousands years sat next
to him, a well-respected man, a man of infinite wisdom, vast knowledge and sound judgments. The righteous
specter whispered some words he didn’t comprehend. As he moved his ear closer to the wise man’s mouth to
hear his words of wisdom, the sage suddenly tackled him and bit his ear. He squealed in pain and didn’t know
how to respond to such an outrageous act of violence from a respectable seven thousand years old ghost. He
was still in the state of shock, trying to make a sense of this absurd hostility, when the old spirit punched him in
the nose. Before he had a chance to defend himself, the venerable man grabbed his hair, violently pulled his
head down and kicked him hard in the belly. He collapsed on the ground, but the vengeful master was not
through with him yet. He then swiftly plucked him off the ground by his testicles, twirled him over his head and
threw him back to life.
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When the twelve year old boy opened his eyes, he had a bloody nose, an injured ear and a wonderful life ahead
of him.