The most irritating aspect of coming back from the dead was that no one believed you hadn’t gone evil. There were other factors of course. Dying in the first place was a pain and a half, manner of resurrection, possible bargains, and loss of property due to being deceased were all difficult, but being attacked on sight because of disbelief and grief was grating. So what if you were in a binding bargain with a demonic power? You weren’t evil, it was just that you had limited options. There were ways out of that. There always were, I mean, demon deal was a loophole out of being dead. Forget other ideas of boundlessness, its loopholes and human stupidity. Though describing the universe as basically one giant loophole recursion into infinity wasn’t a bad way to think about it. But I digress from the point at hand. To sum up: been dead, got better, came back, got attacked, friends threatening to make me dead again.
Lying as bonelessly as possible in an attempt to convince all and sundry that I really did mean to be good and not be perforated with holes leading to a loss of vital fluids was only being so successful. “I swear it’s been hours. Can you at least let me sit up?”
This did not sway the friends who were still threatening me with pointy things.
Benny, who was sitting out all this weirdness with a book, didn’t even look up. “It’s been less than five minutes.” He lifted his head in thought, then looked back down. “I think you were dead longer than that.”
This sparked more conversation between those who were deciding my fate via lethal weapon. I would have sighed, but they may take it as a sign of aggression.
I stole this first line as part of the Legal Theft Project and am very curious to see how everyone else defined ‘dead’. If you are too, click here.