What next? After life? Heaven? Hell? Sheaven? Shell? The answer might lie in our assumptions. But one instance is for certain: We're going to fade away. Eventually. Whatever we do now is what matters. Tomorrow is an altogether different ballgame. After all, death ain't a great believer of procrastination. It's damn punctual. Everyday is a seemingly ceaseless exercise in a void that connects birth with its ultimate partner. Blip. Personally, i don't romanticize death as much as its aftermath; the pangs undergone by those who survived a departure. If nothing else, it helps me expand my horizon. Wonder why it happened. Loss is a fabulous teacher. Like dogs, with their relatively shorter lifespan, helped our evolution by teaching a lesson or two in non-human bereavement. Death is death be it of any kind. You see aspirations die or confidence destroyed. Slow, sublime passing away of a thing so prominent minutes ago. And when you look at the bigger picture—with closed eyes, if possible—it comes to you. Slowly. You see yourself breaking the code of life. Death can surely wait.