NOTE: This flash fiction is about the time “in between” with regards to death. This is not about the cause or means of passing, but an interpretion of the “in between” time. I am no authority on this subject, so I ask your indulgence on what is, at the time, a very sensitive situation due to current events.
She looked upon the wasteland of her energy, and couldn’t feel what was really happening. It was as though the universe had turned its back on her, and the synapses in her mind were all shutting down simultaneously.
Then again, this is how death is supposed to feel, right?
Shelbi didn’t have much of an idea of what to expect in terms the hereafter. Indeed, she had been warned by preachers, ministers and nuns about what it would be like for her. Death is a doorway, but it is not without some sort of sacrifice. The pain could be potent but, afterwards, it would be little more than an afterthought. Still, she worried as to what was next.
There was no light, no tunnel, no voice.
There was nothing to walk on. She floated, seemingly in oblivious. Her mind was askew, trying to determine whether she was in her life, or somewhere else. The floating feeling was expected, but the lack of overall sensation was not. She was an energy wave and the environment was void yet there was no black, no absence of light. Rather, it was as though she was not surrounded by mist, but instead had become the mist itself. Her thoughts wandered to what she had done, and where she was going.
Now, she thought. Now, I learn what is really on the other side, right?