And When I Die

So I fell down in the Lowes parking lot last Wednesday and now I know how I am going to die. It will be in a fall. If Mark and I move to a two story house (Which is very likely), I will die in a rumpled pile of flesh and broken bones at the bottom of a staircase while Mark is out shopping. It's a funny thing about falling the way I did last Wednesday. The biggest, most  purple, most swollen and painful contusions stole the show for a few days. It's when those injuries calmed down that I realized I got hurt in a whole lot of other places. I have now noticed that my left arm is very sore when I touch it. Under my right arm, on the triceps, is the perfect outline of the bungee cord that snapped, surrounded by a large purple bruise. This is probably one of the worst falls I have ever had, and it points out the fact that as I get older I will continue to fall more and more. It is how I will die. I had hoped to die on vacation, in a country where they drive on the left, and as I step out into the street to look for oncoming traffic, I get mowed down by a bus coming the opposite way. You know, something fast and painless. Or in my sleep. That is a good way to go unless I should wake up while it's happening. That would not be so good. Anyway, none of that is going to happen. I will step off a staircase and take that slow motion tumble to the bottom, listening to my bones crack, feeling my organs burst, and knowing that nobody is going to find me until the sale at Home Goods is over.