‘It’s me, your mama!’ I shout into my phone.

‘She can’t hear you’ the man with the blurred face nags.

Feverishly I try to reconnect, but whatever button I push, the line of my phone's dead.

 ‘All this activity is pointless’ the man says while he’s trying to put his chin back on.

 As the beat of the heart monitor is speeding up, footsteps are approaching.

'I'm not in the process of dying, am I?' I ask.

‘Once you’ve disappeared from view, you’ve moved to the other side’ the man says reassuring.

‘Which side you mean?’ 

Before he’s able to answer, the man with the blurred face has devolved into a heap of autumn leaves.

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