[Set the tone! Wherever you are, dear reader, turn out the lights. Turn on some engaging, rhythmic music. Jazz. Instrumental hip-hop. Possibly Zeppelin – and it’s obvious enough which song of theirs I’m referring to. Close your eyes for a moment, and breathe deep. Rid yourself of all extraneous thoughts. Focus. Now, read slowly…]
I know I’m asleep. Yet, somehow, I can see everything around me in vivid detail, not in dreamlike perspective. I push myself up from the floor, into a sitting position, and survey my surroundings more carefully. I am in a small, cube-shaped room, with a cold cement floor underneath me, and white marble walls on every side. It seems that the walls, and even the air itself, are frozen, but I can neither see nor feel any frost.
I am wrapped in a thick winter coat. When I move, the soft rustling of my clothing pervades what would be a deafening silence. My ears are ringing quietly, as they sometimes do before I fall asleep at night, when the only things clamoring for my attention are my thoughts. In the air is the scent of purest winter: a forest on an icy mid-January evening. I look up, as if expecting snowflakes to fall from the ceiling, but my eyes meet only with more pristine white marble.
The room has only one exit, and it is to my right. Just past that doorless, rectangular opening is a white stairway, leading upward. A clear, seemingly sacred light descends the stairs. As I stare in that direction, a close-up image of the sun with all its sinuous, leaping fire, etched in immaculate detail by an anonymous artist, spontaneously appears before my mind’s eye. It fades as rapidly as it appeared, and I blink in confusion.
Then I realize all at once that I have been here before, in dreams. But this time it’s real. And this time I’m going to climb the stairs.
I died last night; I can’t say I remember how, but I did. Life hereafter will be a timeless string of ideal events. It all begins when I reach the last step…
I stand, neither abruptly nor hesitantly, but with a fluid motion that serves as proof of my conviction. I walk slowly, hardly conscious of my movements, until I reach the opening, and then I gaze up in wonder at the radiant light ahead. Already I feel much warmer, but not so warm that I wish to shed my coat. I can just barely make out a handrail attached to the right wall, and I reach out for it blindly. My palm comes to rest on something solid and cylindrical, and I assume I have found what I sought.
I take the first step, and memories flicker with the velocity of lightning through my imagination. I take another step. I understand suddenly that I am seeing my life “flash before my eyes.” Each step represents one year of memories, one year of life.
Each year was a shard of sunlight. But today I reach the sun. I continue forward and upward, both reverently and recklessly, smiling now and with tears of joy streaming from my eyes.
At last, I reach the final step. Time stops. Space is nothing. I become one with all.
I know I’m asleep. Yet, somehow, I can see everything around me in vivid detail, not in dreamlike perspective. I push myself up from the floor, into a sitting position, and survey my surroundings more carefully. I am in a small, cube-shaped room, with a cold cement floor underneath me, and white marble walls on every side. It seems that the walls, and even the air itself, are frozen, but I can neither see nor feel any frost.
I am wrapped in a thick winter coat. When I move, the soft rustling of my clothing pervades what would be a deafening silence. My ears are ringing quietly, as they sometimes do before I fall asleep at night, when the only things clamoring for my attention are my thoughts. In the air is the scent of purest winter: a forest on an icy mid-January evening. I look up, as if expecting snowflakes to fall from the ceiling, but my eyes meet only with more pristine white marble.
The room has only one exit, and it is to my right. Just past that doorless, rectangular opening is a white stairway, leading upward. A clear, seemingly sacred light descends the stairs. As I stare in that direction, a close-up image of the sun with all its sinuous, leaping fire, etched in immaculate detail by an anonymous artist, spontaneously appears before my mind’s eye. It fades as rapidly as it appeared, and I blink in confusion.
Then I realize all at once that I have been here before, in dreams. But this time it’s real. And this time I’m going to climb the stairs.
I died last night; I can’t say I remember how, but I did. Life hereafter will be a timeless string of ideal events. It all begins when I reach the last step…
I stand, neither abruptly nor hesitantly, but with a fluid motion that serves as proof of my conviction. I walk slowly, hardly conscious of my movements, until I reach the opening, and then I gaze up in wonder at the radiant light ahead. Already I feel much warmer, but not so warm that I wish to shed my coat. I can just barely make out a handrail attached to the right wall, and I reach out for it blindly. My palm comes to rest on something solid and cylindrical, and I assume I have found what I sought.
I take the first step, and memories flicker with the velocity of lightning through my imagination. I take another step. I understand suddenly that I am seeing my life “flash before my eyes.” Each step represents one year of memories, one year of life.
Each year was a shard of sunlight. But today I reach the sun. I continue forward and upward, both reverently and recklessly, smiling now and with tears of joy streaming from my eyes.
At last, I reach the final step. Time stops. Space is nothing. I become one with all.
1 comment:
I thought that your essay was very creative, and I thought you had great imagery of all the surroundings. I could really feel the character's emotions from the writing. I enjoyed the deep meaning of the story. It was well written. The best part was the decription of what was going on as you climbed the stairs.
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