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Today, this black oak forest will become my grave. 

A crow caws in the distance and I swear it is calling my name. I have never believed in omens or curses but perhaps there are such hateful things in the world. The winter air has a nip to it, causing my nose to run. Instinctively I reach for a tissue but then realize, it's a trivial thing. Who cares? I'm going to have a hole in my head in a few minutes, why give a flip about a runny nose? The absurdity of it makes me chuckle. All my life I never had anyone show me love or kindness. No one to cherish or even remember my name, excepting of course this stupid crow that seems bent on taunting me. 

Everything needed is at my side. The letter. My blanket. This shiny, silvery, sinful savior of lost souls. I suppose if someone were here, they would try and talk me out of it. But that in itself is a joke. Who would even come? Who would care enough to try?

grey sky above me
luminaries hoard their light
darkness takes my hand

Just one more duty to perform, one last sentient act of free will. Carefully, I lay the blanket on a soft bed of snow. Its whiteness is so peaceful. It literally pains me to think of the contrasting red that will defile it. Gently, deftly I lie down, staring at the sky. Caw! Caw! Paul! Paul! Whatever, it doesn't matter. Nothing matters now. Perhaps nothing ever did. I pick up the gun. It is ice cold in my hand. Death should be like that, I muse; icy, cold, alone. I take a deep, long breath, then begin the countdown: Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five - wait! A voice is calling me, no, whispering to me. No raven this. Feminine. I raise myself up and inadvertently drop the gun. There, a few feet to my left a hand, reaching out of nowhere. No body, no face, just an outstretched hand and a distinctively female voice whispering Paul, Paul. I reason that I must be going insane. Adrenalin rushing through my veins has caused my brain to hallucinate, for such a thing as this cannot be. And yet...

Reluctantly, like a frightened child, I grasp the hand before me. With a sudden jerk I am pulled into another realm, another dimension. A blue-skinned alien with mahogany hair and kaleidoscope eyes stands beside me. There are yellow tears streaming down her cheeks. Though her lips don't move I hear her say, "Buckle up Paul. The adventure is about to begin!" With a combination of fear and wonderment I ponder: What lies ahead for me? 

black hole or worm hole
cosmic transport in process
celestial buzz


To be continued...
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