At some point the ride stops.

I took a train to Oaxaca once. It took me to my destination.

A bus to Tuxtla. The same case. The bus back to México City. The same.

To Mazatlán…the same. To Seattle…the same…to L.A…the same…

I ride Downtown back home…the same. At some point you stop and

continue carrying on by walking. You have to leave the vehicle and use

your legs. But there is one ride where you can no more carry on

by walking. The bus of Life. Once it reaches its destination. You are

taken out of it in a stretcher and into a case. A beautiful expensive one.

If your family can afford it. Dying is very expensive. Look at those

funeral and mortuary expenses. Oh, and the cost of your forever grave.

That flat polished 40×40 inch stone. Herein lies…you.

Unless you make other arrangements. Let’s say…you die in the

rancho…and your loved ones put you on a pile of wood and set it on

fire…Oh, some already do that in India. I forgot. And ditch a hole and

lay you into the heart of Mother Heart herself. Sounds beautiful to me.

EO