I left the coffee on.

It’s my only thought as I lay there, near bits of debris and shattered glass. My face is wet, from tears or blood or the rain creating a hazardous roadway, I don’t know.

You never guess what you’ll think as your last thoughts arrive. You’ll never expect this will be your last morning. Your last cup of coffee. But even if you knew, what would you say?

Would you snooze your alarm, just to get those extra blissful moments? Would you smile at the hectic rush to get the kids ready for school, the expectant whine of the dog when the clock hits exactly 7:00? Would you give your partner an extra kiss?

Would you tell them this is goodbye?

I already feel like my body and my self are two separate beings, and I know the physical plane won’t keep me much longer. Distantly, I hear the sirens approach, but I know now what I didn’t when I gave my family the cursory wave out the door.

I’m leaving.