Nao Bustamante

It has been difficult as I don’t want to cast an intention around my death, but I do want to imagine it.

I see myself as quite old, perhaps 101 years old. I’m futzing around my forested property and have been hosting guests. Everyone is in the house safely for the night, but then I step out alone to cover the hot tub, as I bend down on creaky knees, I slip and fall in, and hit my head, but it is really not much of a problem. I come up for air and sit a moment to gather my strength, I notice I have a large bump on my head but I’m ok. I’m crawling out of the hot tub and my long flannel night shirt is soaked and I’ve lost my slippers. Remember, I’m about a 101 years old. I begin to trudge back to the house in the dense snow and ice. I darting light catches my attention and I follow it into the forest where I wander a bit. I cling to a tree and fall into a psychedelic dream. My mom, my mom’s mom and all my dogs are there. The next morning I’m found clinging to my favorite tree, frozen.