Yesterday, after my untimely death at the gym, I forgot to put my shoes away. This morning, to my horror, I found them under the coffee table. My horror was mitigated somewhat by being dead.
I always expected either like, bright lights and some sort of reckoning, or maybe just nothingness and the void when I died. Instead, it's a lot like being alive, only with the entire upper half of my body in massive pain. And, like a velociraptor, I can't lift my hands over my shoulders. So that's what being dead is like.
Sorry about the shoes.