The great big "yes"

Once I've looked into the light, nothing could tear my eyes away from it.

It's impossible to say why the dancing light patterns are so wonderful and appealing, but I know I have to move towards them. There's a feeling of distance, and of longing, and of a barrier that I can't break through.

Part of my mind knows that I'm lying on a concrete floor, staring into a grille that wasn't there before. Part of my mind knows that I'm trying to push my way through the concrete floor, that my forehead is pressed against its cold rough texture.

This part of my mind is a tiny voice, drowned out by the immense rushing desire to be part of the light.

I can hear music thrumming and building in my head, rich sounds I've never heard before but which sound achingly familiar.

I can hear voices calling me on, their words indistinct, but their meaning clear: they're urging me to join the light.

All thought is gone now. There's just the need to be on the other side, in the light. My face is mashed into the floor, my body straining uselessly against the concrete. I push and push - and then...

And then, amazingly, I'm falling through the floor, rushing into the dancing lights.



Story begins here.