Obituary

He woke up. He thought that someone had touched him on his forehead. He looked around but there was no one in the room. Where was his wife? She was not in the bed. That was unusual because it was still very dark.

He stretched his arm towards the side-table. But his wristwatch was not there.

He got up and switched on the light. He looked at the wall-clock. It was 3.30 AM.

Where had she gone? He came out of the bedroom and searched everywhere. She was nowhere to be seen.

He knocked at the door of Tinu’s bedroom.  The door was open. The room was empty. He was flabbergasted. 

“Where is everyone?”  

He checked the main door; it was not open. It was securely bolted. In fact, every night, before going to sleep, he invariably checked the main door to ensure that it was properly closed.

He opened the door. He was surprised to find the newspaper lying in front of the door.

“What’s happening? The boy never comes paper before 6.30?”

He picked up the paper and, as a matter of habit, turned to the last page.

His eyes fell on his own picture in the newspaper. It was an obituary.

Totally befuddled, he hastily read the obituary. Surely, it was about him.

He was dead and a prayer meeting was to be held in the afternoon in the Town Hall.

“It must be a prank……. yes, it is a prank…...a silly prank.” He tried to laugh but only a squeaking sound came from his mouth.

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 A post for A to Z April Challenge

Today’s letter O

 

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