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“The Reality of Death”

By Sean Paine***************

Prologue: POW!

The cool wind blew sun-soaked leaves into the cracked kitchen window as Delilah

hurriedly poured boiling water into the instant cup of ramen she was preparing for her son, Eli.

As the autumnal air pressed against her insipid cheek, it reminded her that her house, and, on a

broader spectrum, her entire life, felt much like a prison. A feeling that came often for the

widow, yet managed to consume her every time. The shining leaves glided through the kitchen’s

south door, which was opposite from the mother, down the dimly lit hallway, and into the 70s-

style cluttered living room, where the boy of nine years sat in front of the small rabbit-eared

television set with the first episode of Gunsmoke re-running for the weekend marathon. “Son!”

shouted his mother from down the hall. “Come get your supper right now! We have to leave in a

few.” Although Eli heard background noise that sounded like his mother, his attention to the

screen was magnetic.

The iconic Man in Black sturdily moved down the dust-covered road while bearing his

revolver. On the far end stood the hero, Matt Dillon, reliably mirroring the mysterious man’s

moves. Eli had seen this episode a dozen times, yet still waited in anticipation for the first man to

shoot. The western brass music played in the background and POW!

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“Eli! Did you hear a word I just said?” The mother jolted toward the television and

clicked the screen to black.

“Mom, c’mon! Gunsmoke Weekend just started!”

“I don’t care. Dinner. Kitchen. Now. And pick up those damn cars. You’re getting too old

for toys like that!”

“Fine!” Eli shouted , standing up. “I guess you don’t care that your son will be the only

kid in the whole universe who didn’t see the marathon!” At that, the boy stood up, stomped

down the hall, and plopped into the retro-styled booth of the kitchen table. Delilah remained in

the living room for a moment after, letting out a frazzled sigh, and begrudgingly followed.

“Don’t slouch,” she said tiredly from the kitchen’s entrance, “and don’t eat so fast.”

“Okay, I won’t. I’m already done anyway,” the boy said, and then mumbled, Dad was never

this bossy.

“You were a baby, Eli! Put your shoes on. We’re going to church.”

***************

Part I: The Hero and the Giant

One of the only things Eli and his mother had in common was a particular interest in

church. Delilah attended because it gave her comfort to be reminded that her deceased husband

had moved onto a divine paradise of sorts. Eli liked it because of the stories, his favorite, of

course, being David and Goliath. There was something special about a man fighting a fearsome

giant that intrigued him. Still, Eli recognized that it was just a story, much like “Jack and the

Beanstalk” or Marshal Matt Dillon cattle rustling in the Wild West.

Eli followed his mother to the second row, which is where they always sat. He didn’t

much like sitting so close to the front because the pastor would look him in the eye whenever he

talked about kids these days. Delilah, however, insisted on it. “Sitting in the front looks too eager

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but I don’t want the pastor thinking that we don’t care just because we sit too far back,” she once

said when Eli asked to sit somewhere else.

“Hello everyone, and welcome!” a plump, little, rose-cheeked man shouted from the red-

carpeted aisle, as he moved his way up to the large oak podium in the center front. He was

dressed in a tan polyester blazer, whose front buttons seemed to have a little too much pressure

tugging on them, a russet wide necktie with a thin gray stripe cutting diagonally through the

center, and dark brown dress pants dragging slightly under his unpolished shoes as he shuffled

forward. “God is so happy that you decided to be here on this cold Friday evening.” Aside from a

lone “Amen” shouted from somewhere in the back, the audience remained quiet. The pastor,

now peaking from behind the podium, cleared his throat. “Alright, please open your Bibles to

Colossians 2:16 and 2:17. Again, that’s 2:16 and 2:17.” Delilah removed her auburn leather-

bound New International Version from her purse, nudged Eli on the shoulder to get his attention,

and began to page through it. “It says, ‘Therefore do not let anyone judge you by what you eat or

drink, or with regard to a religious festival, a New Moon celebration or a Sabbath day. These are

a shadow of the things that were to come; the reality, however, is found in Christ.’ Now, please

bow your heads for our opening prayer.”

This particular sermon wasn’t all that exciting for little Eli. It didn’t have a hero or a

monster or magical wonder of any kind. There were no crumbling cities or deadly plagues. It was

simply an overdrawn speech about how everything that happened on Earth paled in comparison

to Jesus Christ and what He had to offer. Simply put, it was just preaching, and Eli was already

preached at enough by his own mother.

The drive home was void of any conversation between the mother and son, and the only

sound came from “Stairway to Heaven” softly playing in between bursts of static on the Buick’s

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radio. Eli stared blankly out of the window at the ice coming down in all directions like shooting

stars, thinking about how disappointing his Friday night had become. Delilah sat hunched

forward in the driver’s seat, concentrating on the Interstate that led them home. Finally, she

broke the silence. “So, what’d you think?” Eli remained quiet. “Hey!” she raised her voice. “I’m

talking to you.”

“It was alright,” he lied.

“Y’know, it’s a good thing,” Delilah began. “I mean, it feels good to know that nothing

here really matters when we’re gone.”

“Mhmm…”

“Eli, I’m trying to talk to you. Don’t tell me you’re still mad about that stupid marathon

thing.” At that, he shot his glare toward his mother.

“It’s not stupid! I really wanted to see it!” Delilah, startled by her son’s sudden

aggression, looked toward him.

“You’re not six anymore, Eli! It’s time you learned that you’re not always going to get

—” Ba-BOOM! THUMP! The Buick spun a hard left, and then right, and then left again, as

Delilah desperately attempted to regain control. The tires squealed violently on top of a fresh

layer of ice like a hog begging for its life. The highway was no longer the windshield view.

Instead, a steep, snow-covered hill pulled the vehicle’s hood toward it in a magnetic fashion, and

Delilah knew what was coming next. “Baby, hold on! Now!” CRUNCH. Without hesitation, the

Buick toppled rightward. Inside the car, Delilah’s purse tumbled over. A tube of lipstick was the

first to fall out, followed by a pack of Hope Lights, a lighter, several coins, a bottle of Valium,

and finally, the leather-bound Bible. Crrrunnchh! As the car rolled a second time, the objects

shifted directions, like a hurricane preparing to touchdown. Delilah squeezed her eyes shut and

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began to pray aloud. Finally, her possessions rained onto the floor and everything fell silent.

“Sweetheart, are you hurt?!” Again, Eli remained quiet.

***************

Part II: Matchbox Cars

"Ms. Erickson, we’re doing everything we can but I advise that you prepare for the worst.”

The doctor’s words vibrated through Delilah’s ribcage like a percussion triangle.

What exactly did he mean by “the worst”? A breathing machine? Wheelchair? Brain damage? As

the potential outcomes spun through her mind, a prolonged, unnerving white-noise sweltered

through her ears. She then realized that “the worst” was not by Eli’s standards, but by hers. Tears

sphered under her puffy, scarlet eyes. A scented mixture of decay and bleach spiraled above her

greasy hair like a halo. Finally, her head began to fill with dismal thoughts and blissful

memories, together intertwining like a confused ball of yarn.

She then remembered breakfast time, and how when Eli was younger, he used to sit at the

table of the bright golden dining room waiting patiently for his blueberry pancakes and sausage

gravy. Next, she thought about the torn-up navy-blue backpack she had bought him soon before

his first day of kindergarten. And his beautiful, unwavering curiosity of the universe’s finest

details, from “How do grasshoppers hop?” to “Why do people die?” Last, she reminded herself

of Eli’s father, and how he actually died from a cocaine overdose, not in Iraq as a soldier like she

always led him to believe. As this final thought lingered, a long thread of guilt entered into the

tangled mess of a mixture accumulating in her head.

Finally snapping back into the present and realizing how long she had been standing in

the hospital hallway, the worried mother gathered up her emotions and pocketed them just long

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enough to talk to the receptionist at the front desk. “Excuse me,” she said quietly, “can you

please tell me where Eli Erickson is currently located?”

"Absolutely, Ms. Erickson," answered the blonde young lady in a faint southern accent.

"If ya follow the yella line into that door, he"ll be in Room G18."

After gradually pacing down the hallway, as if next in line for Death Row, and counting

room numbers in her head, Ms. Erickson finally came across her son's room, and hesitantly

entered.

Upon entering, Delilah immediately caught view of a bouquet of wilted blue and yellow

tulips, which were scattered along a desk-top to her right. In the same neighborhood of the sad,

decomposing flowers laid a variety of seamless get-well-soon cards from the church and his

fourth-grade class, and a stiff, brown teddy-bear, with one eye missing, from his grandmother.

Lying on the floor beside the desk was a colorful collection of matchbox cars Eli had brought

from home. A golden 1976 Monteverdi Hai he received as a Christmas gift four years ago. A

1979 black Corvette with an orange stripe. And one of his favorites – a cherry-red Weck Fire

truck from 1978.

In the left corner of the room opposite from the door sat a rock-hard bed illuminated by

the daylight pouring in from the cracked window, and little Eli lay cocooned within the flawless

white sheets and comforter. “Come on baby. Fight just a little longer,” she thought as she gently

kneeled beside him and observed the emptiness painted on his pastel face. There was evidence of

neither relief nor painlessness on the young body. Not yet. Only a dark void, neither blissful nor

agonizing. His hair was the same light shade of brown and his eyes lay closed and content. His

overall expression had no outward signs of being the victim of a terrible car accident and, oddly,

that frightened Delilah even further. Her fingers pulled gently through his soft, platinum hair as

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she observed the half-filled IVs taped to his arms. Overhead, a slow, repetitive beeping reminded

the mother that her son was still in that room, lying beside her, though it certainly didn’t feel like

it.

Firmly placing her hand upon his chest, she noticed something sitting on the pillow to the

left of his head– a 1977 angelic-white classic ambulance with red crosses painted on both sides

of the vehicle. Upon noticing the object, Ms. Erickson remembered that Eli used to pretend he

was rescuing people from a burning house. The mindset of a true hero, like that guy in

“Gunsmoke.” “You’re a good boy,” she whispered, her face softly pressed against his forehead,

“and Mommy will always love you.”

***************

Part III: Reality Forest

"Mom! I think I'm better!".....

"Really, I feel great!".....

"Hello?".....

"...Where...am I?" Eli's question lingered for several moments, vibrating off the pristine white

walls and floors of the room he found himself in. Observing his surroundings in increasing

surprise, the boy could still clearly hear the echo of the first "Mom" he shouted. "This

is...impossible," he said with quivering lips. Still, in that moment, Eli had an overwhelming

feeling that it was possible, as he remembered the accident. “I’m d-dead,” he stuttered,

paralyzed, as icy chills dripped down his spine.

As Eli regained the ability to move, he began to walk hesitantly toward an endless hall of

unpolluted white. With each cautious step the boy took, the tiles beneath him glowed and

transformed into green and yellow and orange splotches, which quickly extended to the walls

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and ceiling like paint. Greens transformed into yellows, and yellows transformed into blues and

violets as the empty, white room morphed into a winding forest of vibrant life. The echo of Eli’s

steps changed into the hoo’s of owls and an eerie, whistling wind. The white nothingness was

now a myriad of trees, shrubbery, streams, and a vast night sky of the darkest hue of purple. Eli's

reluctance and confusion were replaced by a natural relief as the beautiful environment cloaked

him.

But before he could get acquainted with the new scenery, Eli heard a young, muffled, yet

oddly familiar voice coming from a distance. "Hey! Little boy, wait up!" He shifted and

stumbled on the roots that had developed in front of him without warning. "Hey, wait!" The

voice grew miles closer than it was just seconds before. "Eli!" At the sound of his own name, he

stopped abruptly and glanced back in fearful curiosity. Then he saw her. A girl of about eight

years appeared directly in front of him on what was now a sandy, tan-colored path. Adorned in a

silky red dress, the girl's shoulder-length hair was a deep, breathtaking shade of gold. Her eyes

reflected from the moonlight like brilliant sapphires and her pale complexion was without even a

scratch. Surrounding the girl were several golden-retriever puppies, whimpering and begging to

play. "Wh-who are you?" stammered Eli, as he attempted to mask is fear by standing in an

upright posture.

"Hmmph, thanks for waitin'," she responded playfully, with a slight grin.

"Um, I'm sorry. I don't know where I am. I'm really confused and guess I didn't hear

you," Eli said.

"Well, I guess its okay," she teased, "My name's Lilah."

"Lilah?"

"You gotta problem with that?"

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"Uh, no. Not at all. Just...do you know where we are?" the boy asked.

"O'course I do! I live here after all. We're in the Reality of Death." Lilah impulsively

grabbed Eli by the hand. "Follow me!"

The two children ran in the direction Lilah came from and soon came across a dense wall

of bushes coated in honey-suckle and lilies. "What now?" Eli remarked uneasily.

"We gotta jump through it, dummy! Don't worry, it won't hurt!" At that, Lilah leapt into

the deep shrubbery like a bottomless pool. Cautiously, Eli followed.

On the other side of the wall was a crystal lake with fluffy, off-white clouds hovering

over it. There was a pleasing aroma, like fresh oatmeal raisin cookies that Eli’s mom used to

make on special occassions. The innumerable stars of the night reflected onto the lake, which

reflected back onto the sky, creating an infinite, stunning cycle of light. Inside the lake, the light

illuminated odd species of fish that Eli had never seen before. A soft whistling breeze grazed

Eli’s face as his anxiety transformed into still serenity. “I’m the Spirit of Life, in case you were

wonderin’,” Lilah introduced, interrupting the silent night that the children breathed in. “You’re

dying, Eli.”

“I kinda knew that,” Eli sighed, “I figured it out in that white room back there.”

“It’s okay though, because if you try hard enough, you can wake back up in the other

world. You can be with your mommy again,” the young spirit assured, ignoring the boy’s

statement.

“Well, how do I do that?”

“I’ll show you, but it’ll have to be tomorrow. I’m tirrred.” At that, Lilah pranced over to a

nearby cloud and hopped onto it. The porcelain complexion of her face nuzzled into the velvet

plush and in an instant, she was asleep. Admiring Lilah’s laid-back magnetism, Eli pounced onto

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a neighboring cloud and without further reluctance, fell into the deepest slumber he had ever

experienced.

**************

Part IV: Shadows

“Eli…”

“Eli…Wake up.”

“Daddy?” the boy mumbled, his eyes still closed.

“Eli, I’m not your daddy,” a voice whispered close by. At that, Eli awoke in panic to find

a slightly older boy standing overhead, gazing at him attentively.

“Whoa! Tell me who you are right now!” Eli ordered.

“Calm down,” the older boy responded, “I’m Koda, the Spirit of Death. I need to talk to

you.” Now in a standing position, Eli was able to get a better look at Koda, an older boy of about

eleven or twelve years, who was wearing a white dress shirt, black tie, and black pants. In

contrast to Lilah, the Spirit of Death had a complacent, yet subtly amused expression stamped on

his face. Still, he did not appear to be a threat.

After cautiously observing the boy opposite from him, it came to Eli’s attention that he

was no longer in the forest. Instead, he found himself standing knee-deep in a glowing indigo

pond flowing from the outside into a cave, with his floating cloud remaining loyally beside him.

Outside the pond, Eli immediately found himself mesmerized by a wealth of crystals outlining

the cave’s interior, which were all reflecting magnificently from the blue light of the moon

peaking in from the cavern’s opening. On the edge of the floor closest to the pond, he noticed a

small bonfire crackling and sizzling, and beyond the core of the fire, indistinguishable shadows

danced joyfully on the adjacent wall.

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“I-I-I can’t tell what’s real anymore,” Eli whimpered in humble resignation.

“That’s the point…” Koda responded quietly, “Nobody can.” As Koda’s words lingered

in the air, the boys sat down on the cloud in silence, observing the sizzling fire, and indigo

crystals, and dancing shadows that stood before them.

“It’s not what’s actually real that matters, Eli,” Koda said, interrupting the extended

serenity between them. “It’s what you feel is real that’s important.” Eli glanced at him, waiting

for him to continue. “Many people that come visit us – they truly believe this is the most real

place they’ve ever seen. But some people, well, they’re too attached to the world they came from

to ever let go of it.”

“You and Lilah…you’re giving me the choice – to live or die, I mean. Is that it?” Eli

asked, almost desperate for confirmation.

“No. We’re not giving you the choice. You just have to make a choice. It’s how it has

always been.”

“Oh,” Eli responded, not knowing what else to say.

“There have been a lot of people, though, who couldn’t decide, Eli. I don’t want to tell

you what happened to them, but you cannot be like these people, okay?”

Eli nodded his head slowly to show he understood. “So you have to choose. And fast.

Your time’s running out on earth. Oh yeah, and one more thing! If you choose life, Eli, you have

to fight to wake up. Remember that.”

“Wait! What do you mean? How do I fight?” Eli asked, but Koda had already vanished,

and the crystalline cave along with all of its contents unfolded into a wide, green field like a

freshly opened book.

***************

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Part V: Engravings

Everything was quiet. No wind, no running water, no people. All that existed in the lush,

emerald field at that moment were Eli and the impressively colossal willow tree that stood erect

in the center of the landscape. The intensity of the sun was blinding, and there was not a cloud in

the sky. As Eli’s eyesight began to adjust, the young boy looked all around himself, hoping to

find anyone, human being or spirit, who could give him a little more explanation of where he is.

But nothing.

“Wait a minute,” he said to himself, squinting directly at the tree. “What’s on the trunk?”

He started to walk toward the willow, still maintaining his cautious attitude. His attention to the

tree was broken, however, when a puppy appeared in the distance, yipping and hopping along the

green carpet beneath. “Wait, that puppy belongs to…”

“Gabe, Heel!” Lilah shouted in the distance, interrupting, yet confirming Eli’s last

thought. “Stop that dog!”

Eli stopped his pace toward the tree and lunged toward the puppy that circled around him.

“Got him!” he shouted.

“Thanks,” she said, “and sorry I’m late!”

“Late for wha...” Before Eli could finish his question, Koda appeared out of thin air, right

in front of Eli and Lilah.

“Lilah, I got the engraver. We’re just about ready to send him to the Tree.”

“Send me to the Tree?”

“Yes, Eli. It’s time for you to make your decision.” The three walked leisurely toward the

tree until they arrived.

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“You have two choices, Eli,” Lilah said. “Make the right one!” Koda faced Eli and

unlatched the buckle to a wooden, rectangular maroon box exceptionally crafted with white

floral patterns stitched throughout the exterior fabric. Upon opening it, a brilliant golden light

showered outward toward Eli’s face, though it had no particular effect on his eyesight. After the

light faded, a mysterious yet undeniably beautiful silver tool of some sort lay within the box,

atop another elegant piece of fabric, this time colored gold. Cylindrical and about the size of a

pen, the object’s most notable feature was its tip, which was an untarnished, triangular blade.

After removing the tool from the box and carefully handing it to Eli, Koda also removed a white,

translucent scroll and unraveled it to read.

“This is the Engraver of Acceptance,” Koda began. “If you look up toward the tree trunk,

you’ll see an infinite number of signatures. Every single one belongs to someone who passed

away from the earth. Upon etching your name onto the Willow’s trunk, you are accepting death

from the earth as your choice. If you don’t sign, you’re accepting life of the earth as your choice.

Regardless, you must make a choice, Eli. Take a few minutes to think about it.” After reading the

scroll, Koda grabbed onto Lilah’s hand and stepped to the left of the Willow, where they both

remained quietly.

Meanwhile, Eli sat down gradually in front of the Willow, crossing his legs, and noticed

for the first time a colorful collection of matchbox cars surrounding the trunk. Instinctively, he

picked one up – a 1977 angelic-white classic ambulance with red crosses painted on both sides of

the vehicle – his absolute favorite since he was first old enough to hold it. While gently pressing

the ambulance to his cheek and observing a number of signatures on the trunk, he thought about

Lilah and Koda, and how comfortable he had felt around them, like they were family, even

though it had only been a short period of time. The company the spirits brought – it was so

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familiar and warm and comfortable. He thought about the beautiful scenery that he had breathed

in, in the forest and the cave and the pond. He thought about reality and life and life after death.

Last, he thought about his mother and the warmth she resonated, and how when he arrived in the

Reality of Death, the only thing he wanted was to see his mother.

“I’ve made my decision,” he declared confidently. He looked to the two spirits for

confirmation and when they nodded in approval, Eli stood up, directly in front of the Tree’s

trunk and brought the point of the engraver to the wood. Without further hesitation, he began to

carve his full name in between a Carly Fisher and Heng Huan Zhāng.

“E…L…I……E…R…I…C…K…S…” As the boy was approaching the final letter, he

began to hear a faint voice.

“M-mommy…will always…love you,” the voice whispered, spiraling inside his head like

a deafening thunderstorm. He looked at the ambulance still firmly resting in his hand.

“Mom…” he whispered back, tears welling up under his dark eyes.

***************

Part VI: Saltwater

“Guys, wait! I don’t want to sign! I want to go home!”

“Oh, dear,” mumbled Lilah as she shook her head worriedly.

“I don’t think you can do that!” shouted Koda. At that moment, the engraved letters of

Eli’s name began to glow golden beneath the bark.

“What’s happening!?” Eli cried. The velvety green carpet beneath them shook

uproariously as it morphed into a saltwater tsunami, and the trunk of the tree began to crack into

two from the roots. The sky broke into little pieces like an enormous stained glass window, as

the variety of blue and green hues rained down upon the three children.

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“You didn’t decide!” Lilah screamed, attempting to compete with the mighty roar of the

ocean that surrounded them. On Lilah’s final word, the entire setting bulged outward as if ready

to explode like an angry volcano. As Eli remembered what Koda had told him in the cave, about

the mysterious, yet dreadful consequence of not deciding, it already seemed to be too late. The

boy’s eyes began to change colors, from his deep, thoughtful brown, to the murky color of

seaweed.

“What do I do!?” yelled Eli, but there was no longer anybody around him to answer. As

he looked frantically for a solution, the boy began to feel a peculiar sensation that resonated

within his legs. Looking down, he realized that everything below his kneecaps had already

transformed into puddles of blue and green. His legs, however, still felt completely intact, as he

stood watching in horror while his body began to melt like an ice cube.

Above Eli, the lush branches of the Willow broke off and began to rotate at an incredible

speed around the trunk, causing a great wind that pushed Eli into the crashing ocean waves.

Struggling to keep his head above the water’s surface, the forest green Willow leaves had swirled

into a number of hurricanes, which effortlessly magnetized the colorful assortment of Matchbox

cars into them. In incredible desperation, Eli gazed at his right hand to see the 1977 angelic-

white classic ambulance sitting reliably in his grip. His arms, however, began to dissolve into

water as well, which made it virtually impossible for Eli to remain above the ocean’s depths.

As the child submerged into the deep blue, his prized cars of all colors, which floated

around him, transformed into a variety of fish and sea monsters. The 1976 Monteverdi Hai he

received as a Christmas gift grew into an astounding number of flickering goldfish. The 1979

Corvette with the orange stripe stretched horizontally into a terrifying electric eel, with the sound

of static clicking and chittering. The sturdy cherry-red Weck firetruck began to morph into a

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giant, elastic octopus, which swayed back and forth above Eli’s head in an elegant fashion.

Finally, the boy’s tight grip could no longer contain the angelic-white ambulance, as it blew up

into the monumental size of a Beluga Whale. Eli struggled to hold his breath any longer as his

chin began to dissolve into the water around him as well, and then suddenly, the boy

remembered what Koda had told him in the cave. “If you choose life, Eli, you have to fight to

wake up.”

“...to wake up.” As his head continued to liquefy along with the rest of his body, Eli

thought hard about the hospital bed, where he left behind the most important part of his life: his

conscience. He didn’t recall physically leaving the room that he laid in soon before he arrived in

the Reality of Death, so his real self must have been in the hospital the entire time, still sleeping.

Eli had to wake himself up.

He closed his eyes and thought about every little detail that he observed before he left the

world. The plastic texture of the ambulance he held. The softness of his mother’s hand. The light

that shone into the window. The sound of shooting rifles and whinnying horses in Gunsmoke.

The savory taste of his favorite breakfast, blueberry pancakes. And everything else that had made

Eli his own person. And suddenly, the bubbling noise of underwater had been replaced by a

slow, repetitive beeping overhead.

**************

Part VII: Comfort

“Mommy…” Eli mumbled, as he slowly opened his eyes. He glanced down in

confusion to see himself firmly holding onto his toy ambulance. Then, he noticed something out

the corner of his eye, sitting on the bedside table to his right. It was an elegantly framed picture,

and in it, a boy of eleven or twelve years, who was wearing a white dress shirt, black tie, and

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black pants, stood before a cemetery backdrop under an evening sky of indigo. Directly beside

him stood a massive willow tree and a small, plain headstone underneath that clearly read

“Dakoda Erickson, Sr. – Faithful Son, Caring Father, & Loving Husband (Feb. 6th, 1929 – April

27th, 1954).”

“It’s alright, Eli. Momma’s here!” his mother sobbed joyfully, and tightly embraced him

like a warm glove on a winter night. As his mother’s voice assured him that he was back, alive,

and with her, he smiled faintly and began to drift into a deep, comfortable sleep with his hand

wrapped tightly within his mother’s.

The End