I had died. I didn't remember how, just that it wasn't particularly tragic, just an accident, and that I was dead. I don't know how I knew I was dead, nobody told me, and there were no flashing neon signs that said "You're dead!". I was standing on a road, cobblestones, that stretched off into eternity. Aside from the road there was nothing, not just blackness, but nothing, just an eternal sense of depth and pervasiveness. I was not sad about my death, all I felt was a sense of wonder at this strange place I had been taken to. On the road were others who were also dead, they were all walking, onwards into infinity.

As I continued down the road, I noticed people standing there who were not walking. They were people I had known in my life, those who I'd known and those who I'd loved. The stood there waiting for me to pass them by, in their dreams to say goodbye.

As I passed my friends I stopped and spoke to each one, hugging them as I knew it would be last time I would see them ever again. I took my time, because there was no rush. I had all of eternity.

As I continued to walk further and further down the road, those that I knew grew fewer and fewer, reduced to the few that I had truly loved. Finally I reached my family, who were waiting for me at the foot of a bridge, that stretched off into nothingness.

The stood there, smiling, joyeous to see me one last time. I gave them each a hug and a kiss, throwing my arms around them to tell them how much I cared for them and loved them. They smiled, and my mother and father told me they were proud of the life I had lived. I began to cry, for the first time regreting leaving life behind me.

All too soon it was time to go, my family was about to wake, and I had to continue on my eternal journey. I stood there on the road, until they had faded into mist, into memory, and I walked onto the bridge and into nothing.