To set on fire and to burn to ashes. To cremate by scorching a corpse. Once I had committed to the flames, I had no choice but to turn to dust. These flames would consume my human body in the horizontal position for superstitions reasons. My body, soon to be ashes will be spread out to re-toil the farmland and join the rusted dust of the corroded and decaying farm equipment. Yes, I will be reunited with once again with my farm equipment. Then in a matter of days I will be scattered into oblivion and returned to the earth.
In my pine coffin, nicknamed the flame worshiper I sit waiting to be incinerated alive so I can join my farm equipment once again. I sense the oven doors open as a blast of heat hits me. I enter and the doors whip shut.
Within seconds a belt of fire, of creeping fire, burns my clothes into rags, soon it begins to melt my skin. My jaw makes a final mastication of a giggle as I begin being taken from this life. Oh! the release of pain from this miserable existence! Let my evil burn till the end of time! Let it burn me until I am pure from sin!
Quickly, the thoughts of flocking birds flying over my ashes dart through my mind as the cremation fire burns me into the unknown. Then the thought of glowing candles melting my decayed body shoot through my mind. I imagine my body being embalmed but quickly decomposition starts and I turn to rot.
As I burned I realised that it was such an inopportune time to change my mind back to a traditional burial. I was now the servant to the brick oven. Once done there will be no traces or scents left of me. Suddenly, my greatest anxieties and fears became entertained by doubt.
Obscure thoughts from ages ago start to plague me. I remembered myself living all alone on the farmstead as a hermit. My only friends being my farm equipment. And when approached by humans on the farm I would hide in the bushes protecting my tractors and plows. I wanted to die because being a hermit made me look and feel old. Also, people always betrayed me. Everyone betrayed me except my beloved farm equipment.
I also must admit that I chose cremation over burial because nobody would come to see me with an open coffin lid as I was hideously grotesque. They would just leave it shut, so why have a funeral at all. Who would want to see a man that had surgically replaced his bones with steel so he could become a piece of farm equipment? I had left my inheritance to my wife named Cassie, who was a John Deere tractor.
Spread my ashes to the land in which I was born and maybe I will rise from the earth in time to enact vengeance.
Back in the crematorium my steel bones melted into a liquid and I was never reunited with the rust ashes of my farm equipment. Instead, my liquid self was merely poured down the drain.