Say I’m killed by lightning while feeding a horse. A light drizzle,
the meadow wide and lush. Say the horse is cinnamon-brown with
steam rising off its hide. The animal’s lips lovingly warm, sugar
cubes in my palm. Will the happiness survive? If any part of you
survives, the negotiated benefit cannot be released and will be
retained by the custodian bank until you’ve fully expired. Were I to
haunt my house, make my spouse sense a sudden chill as I bow to
kiss her neck, have the wine in her glass ripple enough to catch her
eye and make her shudder, would I be considered dead? Technically
speaking, yes — provided you had been successfully cremated or
interred. Is it possible the death of all my memories causes a vortex
that violated my past, including this contract? No. Sixty days after
your exit, the stipulated sum is transferred to the designated
beneficiary. Can I sign with my blood — the lone authentic ink, the
carrier of stardust whose crimson may not be crimson at all? We use
DocuSign, for discreet digital processing and safekeeping. Any
other questions? Dying seems so crude. Can’t I just disappear? That
might be a problem. Without a death certificate, the policy won’t be
executed. What if I’m executed. As long as we have evidence —
preferably video footage — then everything’s fine.
Peter Krumbach was born in Brno, Czechoslovakia. His most recent work has been or is about to be published in Beloit Poetry Journal, Bitter Oleander, jubilat, Massachusetts Review, New Ohio Review and Willow Springs. He lives in California.