Again, Dan shook Janice’s shoulder, calling her name. When she didn’t respond, he became worried. Being shorter than he was, her head was at his neck. Hesitantly, he put his left hand over her nose.

She wasn’t breathing.

“Oh God, no!” He tried not to panic, but tears began pooling up in his eyes. He slid his hand down to her left wrist. He felt no pulse.

The sides of the coffin seemed to close in on him. The intense claustrophobia was like a physical presence lurking in the darkness, waiting to feed on his mounting fear.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to unleash an ear-shattering bellow that would split the earth apart with its thunderous volume. He didn’t know what stopped him. Perhaps it was the overwhelming flood of emotions threatening to drown him in savage waves of conflict. He felt sorrow, shock, horror, despair and indescribable loss of his beloved wife.

He should inhale deeply now. He should breathe up all the oxygen as fast as possible and end it quickly. Buried deep in the bowels of the earth, his death was as inevitable as the progress of time. Besides, without Janice in his life, he didn’t want to go on. His life would be without purpose.

He didn’t know how long he lay with her just crying. He didn’t care either. If being buried alive wasn’t the worst possible death a person could imagine, then, being buried alive cramped beside a fresh corpse surely qualified.

Dan held the cell phone up in his left hand. He wanted to use its failing light to see the precious face of Janice one last time before he died. Her angelic countenance would be the last thing he saw in his life. He aimed the phone toward her face but dropped it before he could press a key.