Mr. Albert
Chapter 1

Another Beginning
In an examination room
The present day.

“I'm sorry to say, Mr. Albert, that you are dead.”

“Dead?”

“Dead.”

“Dead?”

“Yes, Mr. Albert, you're dead.”

“How could that be?”

“Well, you have no brain function, and you have no heartbeat, so you are dead.”

“But doctor, how can I speak without a brain?”

“Well son, it seems to me a lot of people do that nowadays.”

The doctor chuckled.

“If I'm dead, is this heaven?”

“I hope not.”

“Is this hell?”

“Only if you don't like New Jersey.”

After some thought.
 
“Am I a ghost?”

“You mean some disembodied spirit who remains on this temporal plain?”

“Yes.”

The doctor slapped Mr. Albert across his face.

“Owww! That hurts!”

“Well, you are not disembodied.”

“You knew I wasn’t disembodied.”

“I was just making sure. You never know.”

“You just wanted to slap me.”

“That could be true.”

Mr. Albert mumbled to himself about the injustices of life. A thought occurred to him.

“Well, am I a zombie?”

“Do you feel like you want to eat my brain now? With Fava beans and a little Chianti?”

 “No, not really but I never liked organ meats as far as I can remember.”

“I guess the whole zombie thing is not applicable then.”

A slight pause.

“Yes, this is a mystery.”

“How about a god? Am I a god?”

The doctor spent a moment in contemplation, pondering the notion that he might be having a conversation with a higher being. He filled a plastic cup with water and placed it next to Mr. Albert.

 “Turn the water into wine.”

“What?”

“A Cannonau, from Sardinia. I heard that was the healthiest wine around.”

“You want me to change this water into a cup of wine?”

“Yes. A Cannonau from Sardinia if you please.”

Mr. Albert squinted and made an uncomfortable face. The water remained as it was. The doctor seemed disappointed.

“Then I guess you are not a god.”

“Well, what do I do now?”

“I would suggest that you go about and do the same things that you usually do. Eventually your body will just give out on you, and you'll actually be dead, instead of this kind of dead.”

“Oh.”

“Or you can stay in the hospital and be tested.”

“Tested?”

“You know, the whole autopsy thing.”

“But I’m not dead!”

“Yes Mr. Albert, clinically you are. I don't believe I have ever come across a case like this.”

“I think I'd rather go out into the world.”

“Probably a good idea before some government agency gets wind of this.”

“You won't tell?”

“Believe me, I'm going to have a hard enough time trying to bill you.”

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