nBlog

I wrote this a while ago and thought it promising. But then, I read The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold and found it to have a similar plot like the one I had in mind, so I dropped the idea. I still like the beginning, though, so I thought I’d share it.

“Sometimes, light is more than just light”. My father had said that. We had been hiking through the woods, just he and I. “Look”, he said, pointing. Between the dark pine trees, some rays of light were shining, visible beams of sunlight transforming the creeping mist into flowing, golden threads of enchantment. “Light”, my father said, “is all around us, all the time. If there were no light, we could not see each other, not a tiny little bit, no matter how good our eyes are.”

“But sometimes, there is light like this… light you can see, enchanted light. If you let the rays touch you, it will be like a kiss of God. It will fill you with goodness and grace”.

He scooped me up in his arms then, and carried me, giggling, to the small clearing, and sat me down in the soft evening light. I sat motionless, letting the sunlight tickle my nose, feeling full of goodness and grace, and Godkissed.

This is my best memory.

My worst is how I died.