In My (Next) Life

One night, I was feeling so upset — and so hopeless — that I asked to be sent back next time as someone different. I wanted to be a different person, in a different body, in a different life.

And then I realized that — given the choice — I just want to come back as me. The same person, the same body, the same life — but with more resources and a bigger safety net.

I’m happy with me, but I’m not happy with the world we live in.

I just want another chance to live my life in the exact same body — because it’s what I know. Because it’s what I’m used to. Because it’s a body I genuinely like. But I want to get a chance to live somewhere else — in a more comfortable place.

If that comfortable place is out there, I want to find it.

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Published by Sally

Sally Garnatah writes silly things. Some of Sally’s stories are true. For legal purposes, consider all of these posts to be … autofiction, if you can stomach that kind of quasi-pretentious literary stuff. Sally doesn’t read autofiction, though. She’s too much of a country girl. You can find her down by the Tennessee River, out in the woods, standing in a sorghum field — or you can find her right here, on her blog.

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