“What’s gotten into you?” Simon accused, his eyes narrowing to slits. “It’s not like you to be crass.”“What can I say, man?” Carter ch...ckled. “A little brush with death changes one’s vocabulary. Are you ready to leave, or do you still have some unanswered questions? I don’t have all day, you know?”Simon tensed his jaw, but for a brief second. His perfect face metamorphosed back to straight, flawless lines, and he smiled.“I like it when you’re bossy,” Simon spoke, his voice languorous and filled. I spin towards it and I am out of the tunnel. I am in a place that is no place. There is no up, down or sideways. I seem to stand on something but the something I cannot see. I am in a mist, but not the dark mist or fogs of moisture and pollution. It is a bright mist without sensation or substance. It embraces me and I feel no physical touch but know it is the embrace of welcome. If I am loved and cared for, I must be, I am, but who am I? I try to remember who the ‘I’ is and there is only a. More

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