Prompts = Opposite, Tumble, Wreck
One second I’m in the car, the next I’m out; I tumble, sailing through the air, ground approaching, time slowing.
Everything stops.
Slowly, my body travels the arc it had followed, but in the opposite direction. I enter the formerly wrecked Honda through the passenger door. We speed backwards down the highway. Time accelerates. It flashes by; I catch snippets of childhood memories. My vision tunnels, a white light ahead. I rocket through.
The light dims to a blurry dusty rose.
Sounds. Muffled.
Body smaller. In a fleshy bag.
Tube in my belly.
Laugh.
Never believed in reincarnation.
Shrug.
Sleep.
Links to other sites where I publish:
