It may not be on your top five but maybe not much more has provoked the imagination in the human mind than the fear or at least awareness of one’s own mortality. In dealing with an unprecedented world pandemic and growing numbers forced to stay indoors, isolate, even not touch outside objects–let’s take a minute to think about the worse. (You may say you don’t fear death but fear the death of your loved ones. Fair enough. But for the sake of contemplative writing here–let’s stop to think about it.)
You are going to write a letter (rant, personal essay, long unwieldy free form verse) to your community (beloved, children, pet, peers, etc.). One day you have a dry couch, a high fever follows. You are taken to a hospital. You walk in but immediately are wrapped up, hooked up, carried off. You may not look back. There’s no opportunity to say good-bye, give instructions, put things in order. You are about to be put under so there isn’t much time to think about those things. What are the thoughts racing through your mind as they wheel you through the hall?