You Have Died, but Your Story Isn’t Over

You find yourself in a mist-filled glade.  You can sense an ancient forest all around you.  The ground is spongy beneath your feet but you cannot see it.  There is no sky, only swirling mist.

Out of the mist comes an old woman, walking toward you.  She has a gentle look in her eyes, a soft smile, and a warm, welcoming presence.  She is using a long walking staff made of a pale-as-moonlight wood.  On her back is a bow and quiver of arrows, all of the deepest black.  They sparkle, as though stars are caught in them.

The old woman comes up to you.  She asks, “Are you ready, child?”

With that question you realize there is a road running through the glade.  It leads through the forest in two opposing directions.

Ahead of you, beyond the old woman, you sense peace and rest: an end to all pain, and worry, and struggle.  Ahead of you lies a place where you may set all burdens down, for a time at least.

Behind you is the road back: back to where you were.  A return to pain.  To worry.  To struggle and hunger and thirst.  Behind you is the burden of unfinished business.

“Are you ready, child?” she asks.

What will you answer?

 

This work by Jean Headley is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.