While walking outdoors to exercise my body and refresh my mind, the path ahead led among winter's trees and a footbridge across a spring-fed rill. Presently, a waft of cold, fresh air whooshed by.
"Oh, my goodness! Toby! I'm glad you showed up today. I have missed our talks."
"Me too," he said while taking a swat at his tail.
"Seriously, I want to ask you about something we humans don't talk about much. I need your input."
"Go ahead," he said while sitting back up to listen.
"I've been thinking about The End. Since you're there ahead of me, I wanted to ask you about it. For my end-of-life, I wrote down that I wanted to be cremated, not buried."
"Whoah, stop right there!" he said. "Now that I'm a ghost, I'm fully tuned into The Force. It tells me all sorts of interesting things so I don't have to wait until you're out of the apartment so I can grab the TV remote. Since my Life #9 ended, I looked into the business of cremation and ashes to ashes...by the way, thanks for scattering mine along the fence where I loved to hunt."
"You're welcome, Toby."
"Back to our subject, I learned that you and I are full of plastic, even our brains. So, when you write up your end-of-life wishes, forget cremation. Just have your body put in the Recycle Bin."
"What about the other two Rs: Reuse and Reduce?"
"Nah," he said. "You'll want Recycle. Like mine, your body has too many worn-out, broken parts to Reuse. It's too late to Reduce; you're already born."
"Hmmm. Thanks for the advice, Toby."
His ghost shape-shifted into Toby-Wan Kenobi and said, "May the Force Be with You."
A puff of wind dusted my cheek. Then, all that was left was the winter sunshine and bare trees.
***
