by Joseph Grant
The first time I died was when I was three. It was on a Good Friday and I had lapsed into a hypoglycemic coma right in front of my shaken family. I’m told it is somewhat of a rare thing to be comatose and remember anything, although I would survive this ordeal and come out of it on Easter Sunday, no worse for the wear; but even more uncommon, I would undergo the experience again three years later. The only thing I recall is not being awake and not being asleep, being unable to speak or move, kind of in between both worlds, being between the living and the dead. I’ve never told anyone this, but there is just one more thing I recall from that never waking nightmare. I recall being confused by hearing the friendly voices of family members encouraging me to awaken and come to them; the confusing part was because these were family members who had already died.
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Joseph Grant, author of That Certain September, is originally from New York City and currently resides in Los Angeles. His short stories have been published in over 50 literary reviews and e-zines, such as Byline, New Authors Journal, Howling Moon Press, Hack Writers, New Online Review, Indite Circle and Cerebral Catalyst. Upcoming pieces will soon be published in Literary Tonic. His work has also appeared in The New York Bar Guide (as a reviewer) and in various newspaper articles that have appeared in The Pasadena Star, Whittier News and the San Gabriel Tribune. "Indigo," a work of verse, was published by Alpha Beat Press, and he has recently completed his first novel.