I Was Dead at the Time

I should perhaps admit that at the time I was dead. My heart had stopped, and a nurse was doing his best to get it going again. There was a moment, I remember, seeing his form hunched over mine before a weird gust blew me away. Over the strange and wonderful lands which I flew, I’ll not tell. The interim places are best not described. I doubt I could any sense to one who has not seen. But the point, I found him on the shores of a mysterious coastal rampart which is the beginning of a great and awful city in whose heart lies a chasm, a pit, an emptiness of darkness from which whispers are known to ascend. He was there, and he could not tell me much but that I should live again. I thought, given his collar, he meant that I should see the resurrection.

The, however, he gave me this message, and I think it’s for you. Give me a moment. It’s hard to remember, and I think I should be precise. The dragon is slain but dreams. He is seeking the eyes of the children. I think he would have said more, but as his mouth opened, a hot, scorching blast struck my face, and I went, head over heels flying backward over those strange places between here and there. I awoke to the doctors and nurses. Their fearful faces told me what had almost been.

My recovery was swift afterward, however, and though I am waned to nearly half of what I was, I feel a certain, strange strength alive in me. You see, I’ve learned my body is not all that I am.