aftersome
adj. astonished to think back on the bizarre sequence of accidents that brought you to where you are today—as if you’d spent years bouncing down a Plinko pegboard, passing through a million harmless decision points, any one of which might’ve changed everything—which makes your long and winding path feel fated from the start, yet so unlikely as to be virtually impossible.
(Once a day, I’ll choose a word out of this book, The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows and I will bring forth a paragraph of Merus’s thoughts. Starting with Aftersome.)
Merus entered a small room, filled with nothing but a desk and chair. Both of which sat in the middle of of this emptied dark room. He sat down in the creaky wooden chair as his life surrounded him. Orbs drifted and floated around the table, illuminating the dark just a little bit more.
Merus sighed as his life quite literally flashed before his eyes, the orbs turning into screens of which he gazed through. From when he was young to now. It was all so…insane to think about. He scrolled through his memories to something he never even knew, his creation. There he saw Edra, his Mutha or Mother. He saw himself, unconscious on the table. It made him smile tearfully. His life began to scroll forward.
From there he saw all these moments flash by, from the moment of Death’s appearance to the moment that he met Helia and everything else forward. Truly it was remarkable. To think that everything he’s ever done has led here.
Merus stood up out his chair with a smile as he pushed it in. He turned his back to the memories, putting his hand on the doorknob. He looked back at them once last time as the light they once shimmered dimmed to nothing. He opened the door, it creaking as he did so. Merus left that room, an aftersome feeling as he then left to make more memories.
