assignment 3

ed never got to meet john r. cash while he was alive, but after he'd been dead a while, he would run into him from time to time.

i need to clarify that... you see, after ed had passed on, he would find himself in the same general vicinity as cash on occasion. not that cash had much use for ed, being dead and all, but ed would try to help out anyway, since that was why he was there.

it was the pills, you see. ed had met his own end on account of them, and he just couldn't bear to have others go through the same torment. the good lord had never actually told ed that he had a mission or a calling per se, but ed knew that there couldn't be another reason for why he was still haunting around except to be some sort of guardian angel. and if he wasn't given specific instructions, well then he was damn well (pardon my language, i do apologize) going to do what he felt he ought.

cash wasn't the only one, either, but he was his favorite. that man had a way with a song that ed always connected with, although he'd been dead nearly 7 years before cash started making those records in memphis. they were all hopped up back then, the whole lot of them, especially that crazy sonofabitch jerry lee lewis (again, i do apologize for my language, i'm trying to work on it).

over the years, folks stopped swallowing so many pills, but there were plenty of other things going around. ed knew more strung out folks after he'd been dead 10 years than in all the 48 he'd been alive. that heroin was the worst, it just ate folks up inside. that cobain kid, that was a kid that had a lot to do yet, a lot to say, but he'd fallen into the same trap as so many others.

ed too, really. but... well, after you've been dead a while, you sorta forget about your life. if you don't, you can't really move on. and i'll tell you something else, if ed had been around a few more years before he was finally able to move on...

ed tended to prefer the artists. he couldn't help himself, it was such a change from what his life had been, nothing but dirt and hard work and heartache. artists were always so creative, exciting to be around, even when they were nodding off. he could see what was going on inside their heads, sometimes, expecially the ones who took psychedelics. most of it was junk, just swirling colors or geometric patterns, but every once in a while someone would really see something, and even though he found himself whispering into their ears that they would be better off getting straightened out, he couldn't begrudge anyone their choices.

look at how he'd ended up.

cash, as you'd expect, was different. not that his thoughts were different, but how vivid they were, how real. sometimes ed would get confused, everything was so concrete and he'd thing he was back in life again. cash would focus so hard and with such singularity of vision sometimes that ed would lose track of himeself for days afterwards. that was cash.

jesus, mother, trains, june, music. these things all tend to matter less after you've died. i wonder how cash is handling his time after. and i wonder how old ed's handling his time after his time after...