One minute I was walking down a logging road glancing over a precipitous drop off at the road where I had walked an hour ago. The next moment I was traveling via the direct route back to the same spot. A logging truck had rounded the turn too fast and slid toward the edge of the gravel road, forcing me to the edge, and when the rock gave way, I was flying.
I wondered if flying would be a part of my life after death or if my mortal sins would clip my wings and land me in hell forever? Sweat popped out of my forehead and all over my body. Quickly calculating, at 132 feet per second or there about, I would have my answer in less than three seconds.
I had already taken my last gasp and my mind raced through dozens of would a, should a, could a situations. My life seemed a procession of regrets. None of the good things I had done came to mind, but there was an endless series of memories that I had long ago lived and had beaten myself with a stick over the stupidity of my actions. I had always been a pretty good person, just weak of character. My sins were of 10% commission and 90% omission. It was the omission I was truly sorry for. The evil I had done was harmful only to me so far as I knew. But the things I failed to do were harmful to me and to others. Like dials on a slot machine, my various gaffes whirled before me.
Suddenly the sensation of falling was no longer there. There was no sense of anything. The sweat was gone. My feet didn’t hurt. My knees weren’t aching; there was no feeling of my body at all. I looked, but I had no hands, no feet, no knees, and no body at all. I could see but not myself. I had emotion, but no body. For the first time in memory, I had no fear. I was by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t know where I was going, but I hoped I knew it when I got there. I was just there, at the side of the road, not knowing what had happened. There were no flames or pitchforks, so maybe I passed? There were no bright lights or angels either; I was just where I had been an hour ago.
Now what I wondered? It wasn’t long before another log truck came by. I waved but he drove by like he didn’t see me. Moments later another downshifted and began the climb towards where my current situation began. This time I cupped my crouch, or where my crouch had been and made an obscene gesture with one half of a peace sign. Still no response from the driver. I could only assume he didn’t see me either.
I started moving down the hill. I wasn’t walking, nor was I flying; I was just moving. It was strange, thoughts crept back into my head, and my senses went to high alert. What was to be next?
Copyright Bill Weber 2006-2019 and beyond.
I wondered if flying would be a part of my life after death or if my mortal sins would clip my wings and land me in hell forever? Sweat popped out of my forehead and all over my body. Quickly calculating, at 132 feet per second or there about, I would have my answer in less than three seconds.
I had already taken my last gasp and my mind raced through dozens of would a, should a, could a situations. My life seemed a procession of regrets. None of the good things I had done came to mind, but there was an endless series of memories that I had long ago lived and had beaten myself with a stick over the stupidity of my actions. I had always been a pretty good person, just weak of character. My sins were of 10% commission and 90% omission. It was the omission I was truly sorry for. The evil I had done was harmful only to me so far as I knew. But the things I failed to do were harmful to me and to others. Like dials on a slot machine, my various gaffes whirled before me.
Suddenly the sensation of falling was no longer there. There was no sense of anything. The sweat was gone. My feet didn’t hurt. My knees weren’t aching; there was no feeling of my body at all. I looked, but I had no hands, no feet, no knees, and no body at all. I could see but not myself. I had emotion, but no body. For the first time in memory, I had no fear. I was by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t know where I was going, but I hoped I knew it when I got there. I was just there, at the side of the road, not knowing what had happened. There were no flames or pitchforks, so maybe I passed? There were no bright lights or angels either; I was just where I had been an hour ago.
Now what I wondered? It wasn’t long before another log truck came by. I waved but he drove by like he didn’t see me. Moments later another downshifted and began the climb towards where my current situation began. This time I cupped my crouch, or where my crouch had been and made an obscene gesture with one half of a peace sign. Still no response from the driver. I could only assume he didn’t see me either.
I started moving down the hill. I wasn’t walking, nor was I flying; I was just moving. It was strange, thoughts crept back into my head, and my senses went to high alert. What was to be next?
Copyright Bill Weber 2006-2019 and beyond.
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