You're lying in a hospital ward. There's an old TV in the top right corner. The same channel is on since you arrived a week ago. The sound is off.
People come in and out of your room. Doctors, nurses, friends, family and the occasional lost stranger looking for his pregnant wife about to deliver their baby (he is in the wrong ward).
You can hear people tell you how you're going to be alright, the clutter of medical equipment, the shuffling footsteps, the wheels of the food tray as it is moved to and from your bed. The doctors are kind and the nurses sweet and diligent.
You can hear them but you're not really listening anymore. You're focused entirely on the TV because just a few moments ago, it started playing the most unexpected show:
The Story of Your Life
Right before you breathe your last breath, in the midst of your end-of-life-brain-surge, as you are enjoying a delicious cocktail of neurotransmitters like Dimethyltryptamine (DMT), Endorphins and Serotonin, time slows down and the chapters of your life start flipping vividly on the TV. You see your life go by on the screen:
Taking your first steps, buying your first car, falling in love for the first time, saying goodbye to your dog.
The greatest hits. The rock bottoms. The dreams. Years of life compressed in a moment. Everything else blurs outs. Even the soundtrack is hypnotising.
But suddenly the alarm goes off, you wake up in bed, at home, healthy and full of life, and you realise it was all a dream. You get out of bed, put on your shoes and step out of the house and go for a run, thinking about the stories you have to write and live while you're alive, so you can see them played back to you when the game is finally over.