You Only Live Twice

I woke up.

Considering that the last thing I remember prior to this point was the sensation of the bullet entering my skull, this was an improvement.

I looked around, expecting a hospital, and yet instead it was a field, small white flowers everywhere.

I got up, picked a direction.

It took days, but I finally found a gathering of people, farming, building, living. Making a home.

I picked up a hammer and got to work, given a lack of other options.

I had a long, satisfying life, which was a change.

And then I died.

And woke up again.