|synaptic disunion|

Thursday, November 16, 2006

taking flight...III

Then he stopped. Without turning around, he said "why did you take him?"

Out of the blackness of the clouds above him, stark against the vast plain of white, came the form of a woman who's hair blew around her and seemed to be a part of the clouds themselves.

Her voice, soft and gentle, said "I don't know the answer to your question. But I can show you where he is."

"How can he be anywhere?" He stammered out. "I was there the day we found him, face down in the hallway in front of his little attic bedroom, peaceful and as white as alabaster. It was I who closed his eyes and placed his body on the bed. He was light as a feather that day."

It was true, little Diamond had passed away. He had been such a special child to so many, however, that the funeral was quite large. He had touched so many lives with his smile, his innocence, and his dreamy talk of walking with the north wind.

"I was there that day too." said the woman.

"Am I dreaming?" the man said.

"I don't know." She replied.

"I fell...no...I jumped."

"Yes."

"Then...where am I?"

"Turn around, and I'll show you. But I can only show you a cloudy image of where you are, for it is not time for you to pass completely through me yet." she said as she floated around him, her hair floating about her like a cloud.

Labels: diamond

: toadman : at Thursday, November 16, 2006 |