The Dog.

Dusty.
That was the only word to describe this room. I wondered how long it had been like this. As I looked around the room, I noticed something reflecting sunlight on a table near the window. A small mirror sat across the other side of the room, and a small beam of light was shining from it top the table. I walked over to the table and looked down at the mirror.
That was how I was when death found me.
Dying is not the frightening experience people think it will be. I've done it 42 times so far; that had to be the final time however, as dogs only have 43 lives. Maybe now I would be able to rejoin my long dead love, who died his 43rd time several years ago. I walked slowly around the room in spirit form and wondered where I would go from here. But even as I wondered and wandered, I could feel myself being pulled towards a new body.

My spirit form was drawn out the door and down a long hallway toward the living room. I saw my old mangy smelly dog was sitting in the corner licking himself. But that wasn't my destination. Then I headed out into the street where the neighbours were throwing a street party. I saw that the had all brought their dogs out with them. And then I felt myself twisting out out out towards a new body, a new life, a new story.
The End.