My Jewish Death

Imagine if you will, a middle aged Jewish mother laying comfortably on her back. She feels cocooned in softness.  It’s quiet.  Above her, a brilliant blue sky, a few puffy white clouds drift by. Birds, leaves rustling. She watches the sunlight through lush leaves, a hundred shades of green. A perfect moment.

Her vision is framed by a 6 by 3 foot rectangle, and she is sinking down into the earth.

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