What if I Died? Who Would Cry?

The day my life would forever change

David was a quiet guy. He was always attentive to his work and cordial to the others in the office. Polite. But I could not read him, nor could anyone. What went on inside that carefully manicured head was anyone’s guess and off-limits. But I always knew something about David.

He listened to classic rock. Who listens to classic rock? He was beyond conventional and wanted to be known as such. His comments were never spot on or off. Just courteous and mostly quiet.

No one knew about his life, where he lived, and what he did outside the office. We didn’t know if he had friends; no one knew. The only thing we knew was that he liked classic rock. He liked Michael McDonald from the Dobbie Brothers… ta, ta, ta, ta ta ta-ta, what fools believe, can’t you see...

But David was beyond just a serious guy. And his sense of humor was, to say the least, an enigma. From behind his perfectly manicured mustache, he demanded respect. No one dared to talk about him, not even on his back. He was respected not because he interacted with people but because he didn't. This is weird. But no one knew how weird this was about to get.

And I was going through one of these moments of feeling the spirit and doing spontaneous things. Without thinking, I took…