The Man Who Attended His Own Funeral
To satisfy his curiosity
As hushed whispers and tearful condolences filled the funeral home, a somber atmosphere hung heavy in the air. Mark Sanger couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, marveling at the bizarre spectacle he had orchestrated by time-traveling into the future to attend his own funeral.
The government didn’t allow time travelers to attend their funerals, so he’d had to get a fake ID and disguise himself with dark-rimmed glasses and a fake mustache.
As the eulogies continued, Mark drifted through the crowd, reveling in the absurdity of the situation. Just when he thought he had successfully blended in, a mysterious figure approached him, a twinkle in his eye.
“You must be Mark,” said the stranger with a sly grin.
Caught off guard, Mark stammered, “Wh-what are you talking about?”
The stranger chuckled, revealing a familiarity that sent shivers down Mark’s spine. “That’s the worst disguise I have ever seen, my friend. The government might be fooled, but not me.”
“I have no clue what you are talking about,” persisted Mark, not willing to give up that quickly.
“Come on, Mark. You have traveled thirty years into the future to attend your own funeral. Am I wrong?”
Mark stared at the stranger for a few seconds before blurting out, “Okay, you got me there. I was just curious. I wanted to see how people remembered me, you know? What impact I had on their lives.”
“And you were willing to break the law to satisfy that curiosity?”
“Oh, that’s the easy part of this whole endeavor.”
“What’s the difficult part?”
Mark sighed. “Finding out the date of the funeral. I had to make several trips to the future to figure that out. Cost me a lot.”
“Tell me about it,” said the stranger and fell into silence.
“How do you know him?” asked Mark, pointing to the casket. “I have never met you in my life so far. Were you a late acquaintance of Mark?”
The stranger looked deep into Mark’s eyes and smiled. “Can’t you recognize me, Mark?”
“Your face looks a bit familiar, but… I am not sure…,” struggled Mark.
“Let’s just say I went to a professional to disguise myself,” said the stranger.
“You mean… you mean… good lord!” cried Mark.
“Yes. I am you, just twenty years older,” said the stranger calmly.
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