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    Blinded by the Light

    Awareness hit him like the hurtling truck had a few dark nights ago. Where was he? The man registered that he didn’t manifest a physical vessel. Rather, his conscience was drifting. Floating, as a voice in complete stillness.

    A deafening silence numbed him to the core, yet there was no malice in the world he was now inhibiting. Jets of blue, red and green shot up around him comfortingly, the colours evoking memories faded from a lifetime of regret.

    He saw her; she was as youthful as the day he had said goodbye to her. He accepted that, trapped in his conscience, he hadn’t allowed her to grow; in-stead, he chose to remember her for the angel he had fallen for, those many years ago. The man watched as the raw moment was replayed once again. “This won’t work.” she cried. Her voice was ringing, sharp and painful, echoing in the vicinity around him. “We’re so different.” The man watched his past self helplessly, as he fell to his knees, begging her to love while begging her to stay. His mind wondered if she cared now. If the mortal divide that now separated them made her realise that what they had once possessed was real. Not as real, he supposed, as the bitter pain she had caused over the years.

    He recalled pain as easily as if it were an old friend. Utter abandonment had become so common throughout the final years that even a curt nod from an acquaintance had felt alien. In the state he was in now, however, he was finally detached from the longing; the discontented chains that had once imprisoned him had set him free.

    The colours melted away, replaced by faces shrouded in an ethereal glow. Sometimes, in the middle of cold, despondent, lonely nights, the man would pray disbelievingly that he would see them again. To his delight, his most earnest wishes had been granted.

    He was aware of a child, brimming full of unfulfilled potential. It’s cries had never graced the man until now, however he felt like he had heard them forever. He saw an elderly couple, entwined with passion. Their warm smiles radiated comfort, trust, ease. The woman's arms were outstretched, welcoming him to whatever lay ahead.

    All that had once held the man back was dissipating into the disquieting darkness, as a distant, bright light began to engulf him. It washed away every fear, every tear and every nuance of suffering. The light was all consuming; the purity, peace and perfection sweeping over every fibre of his existence, until it was all he could comprehend.

    SL Edit: This is for the TSR Short Story Writing Competition: [/b][/i]
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    (Original post by Do it Right)
    Blinded by the Light

    Thought this was going to be a 'the streets' reference, damn.
 
 
 
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