Where The Divine Dwell
“Oh, you… You will do nicely. Yes, you are the change we might just need to push things into motion.” Their voice was indistinguishable yet clear.
You were laying down, in a field of flowers, listening to the wind. The sweet smell of flowers covers your form, reminding you of simpler, sweeter times. But then, you were falling. Into a void of black, the scent of flowers leaving, the memories of sweet childhood running away and came the gentle hand of Death. So cold, so devoid of warmth yet as gentle and nurturing as Life.
They brush your soul with a tip of a nail, murmuring so softly, “A catalyst, they call you. Let us see what you will do.”
You weren’t inside the cold, soothing domain of Death anymore. You appeared in something different. Different yet familiar all the same. A woman’s voice coos at you, stroking your plump cheek. Her voice, soft as a feather, sings a sweet tune. It makes you sleepy, you close your eyes and fall into the familiar land of sweet dreams.