Diary of a Dead Man
Pete Garcia I died on March 14th, 1999. It was a Sunday and I was just two months shy of my 49th birthday. I grew up in a small town, with normal people. Nothing ‘fantastical’ ever really happened to me. I was ordinary, unknown, and just part of the anonymous unwashed-masses residing in flyover-country USA. I thought I had lived a good life. I wasn’t a “saint,” but I wasn’t “evil” either, doing what I thought evil people did; like killing, raping or robbing people. I went to church most weeks. I worked hard at a good job, took care …