Scarlet blood slowly trickled off of the end of her fingers. A puddle was beginning to form on the floor of the veranda. Looking up at the ceiling fan clinking and knocking at each turn of the blades, Tasha thought of how it would be to die. Would she see a bright light or feel the flutter of angel wings against her face? She cringed at the pain felt in her wrists as the blood pumped out to each beat of her heart. Would she be greeted by the beast of the underworld? It really didn't matter, she thought, nothing could be as bad as the pain she had felt here. No more worries, no more pain. The cool wind blew through the veranda as the most beautiful crimson and yellow sunset lay into west. Tasha raised her head and said out loud, "This is the last one I'll see". She lay her head back, and all was quiet.

Tasha's eyes opened, the quietness was so strange. No noises, until she heard the ceiling fan. Looking up she caught a glimps of her cold dead body that lay before her. "Oh my God, I'm dead, is this Heaven or Hell, why am I here?" She whispered to herself. Nothing, no answer just as if she were enjoying an evening on the veranda, as she had done so many times before. She began to walk across the floor, she felt weightless, almost a high, euphoric feeling. Where were the angels even the devil? It just was.

Her at her home, looking at her body lying in the lounger beside the miniature lemon tree, that her best friend, Dana had put in a planter for her, weeks before. She had said, "Just something to cheer you up." Dana was always doing nice things like that. She always saw the good in everything and everyone. Her glass was always half full. Tasha always wondered how she stayed so happy. Were some people just built like that? Was their mind wired in a different manner than the entire population of the world? Tasha realize, she would miss her friend Dana, and was pretty sure out of all the people she knew, Dana would most certainly miss her. But she would get over it, the pain would go away, and her life would go on.

Turning around in a quick whirl, almost falling, Tasha heard someone at the door. Her first instinct was to hide, but before she could think on what to do, the door opened. A man in a brown delivery uniform stepped inside the door. "Tasha, Ms. Grey, are you out on the veranda?" The delivery man knew Tasha, she had been on his route for 6 years. He had learned if she didn't answer the door she was probably out on the veranda. So he would

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