Writing

We meet again. Despite what I said before, there's going to be a bit of a pause before beginning the next book (Skeleton Crew, by the way).

I've decided to bore you all with another of those 1 page short stories from before. This one is short, though; still one page and clocking in at only 323 words. I went to revise it and possibly add more, and couldn't really think of a way to flesh it out. Aside from a few words having been added, it pretty much remained the same. Which is okay, sometimes; I think certain stories lend themselves to brevity, and this is one of them. It's meant to be a kind of short, snap-shot-esque bit of writing, mainly elucidating a thought.

And so, without further ado, here it is.

Breathe

Inhale.

Feel the air filling you. Feel the expansive, vast feeling of your lungs dominating your chest cavity. This is a beautiful feeling. Such a mundane act, one that is committed hundreds of times a day, takes precedent, pushing aside those organs responsible for much more dramatic actions, like eating, or even the heart pumping blood, for that matter. The human need for air is most important. It’s beautifully symbolic, isn’t it?

Inhale.

You see, although mundane, this gesture is really the most important. They say that truly the only way to die is to have your brain not get enough oxygen. Most people think it is the heart stopping, or the loss of blood, but it always, always, is caused either directly or indirectly because of a lack of oxygen.

Inhale.

The first obvious ones are drowning and asphyxiation. In either case, you are physically prevented from breathing. A lack of air entering the lungs means that there is now a limited, finite amount of oxygen. Once it is used up, and the brain cannot get anymore, the person dies.

Inhale.

But what about when someone bleeds to death? Ah, yes, this is often considered a particularly...important way to die. But it still boils down to a lack of oxygen reaching the brain. If all of the blood leaves the body, then there is no longer any blood coursing through the veins and arteries, and therefore, no longer any blood providing sweet oxygen to the brain.

Inhale.

No matter what it is, aside from events involving the dissolution of the brain itself, any death is ultimately caused by asphyxiation of the brain, from heart attacks to poison. It makes you appreciate what was previously an action that’s taken for granted, doesn’t it? When you think that something you do dozens of times a day is so delicately intertwined with your existence, well, it’s kind of scary.

Inhale.

And your breaths are numbered.

Again, I'm not at all bragging about my writing skills, nor am I under the impression that any of it is worth reading. I simply felt like putting it up here; it is also rather King influenced, at least from an idealogical stand point (most of the pieces written that night are, actually). I would, again, greatly appreciate any input any of you might be willing to spare, though.