The black consumed everything. Sound... Light... Color... Thought... Air... Life... Feelings and pain and sometimes when it happened I wished it would just go on forever. On and On... Nothing else ever. Just blackness... Forever... Rest. Sleep. Real sleep... Peace of mind... Real...
But this time it didn't last and my body slammed down onto the bed so hard that I felt it slide across the floor. The table went over, the clock flying through the air and shattering into dozens of black and clear shards of plastic. I saw it. Just as I saw my body impact the mattress: The bed jump sideways; the stand go over. I saw it all from about four feet above my body where my spiritual self hovered waiting.
My body, the physical me, the one on the bed, struggled to breath. Fingers clawing at the mattress, twisting the sheets into his fists. He drew a deep breath and my spiritual self ceased to exist. I slammed into my own body hard, and the panic, fear, hot sweat, smells, light and air, feelings, all flooded back into me in one huge rush of light and heaviness. The breath I pulled seemed to sear my lungs, burning harshly as I greedily sucked it in. The blood rushed and sang in my head. Pulsing at my temples. Feeling as if it might burst from me and shower down onto the bed in a bright scarlet spray.
Bird song came to me from the open window on a light, warm breeze. The smells of greenery floating on it. The air settled into my lungs, I pushed it out, sucked in another deep breath and the panic began to fall away. The beads of sweat on my body beginning to cool in the light breeze. I lay still, calming myself... Letting the life come back into my body...
About the Author
Dell Sweet was born in New York. He wrote his first fiction at age seventeen. He drove taxi and worked as a carpenter for most of his life. He was honorably discharged from the U.S. Navy in 1975. He has written more than twenty books and several dozen short stories.