AS I DRIFTED, MY MIND CREAMED A DREAM,
one where I floated on dark water as I heard the happiest sound my mind could conjure up—as beautiful, as uplifting as it was ghastly. It was another snarl: a deeper, wilder roar that rang with familiarity.
I was brought back, almost to the surface of my creamy ocean, by a sharp pain slashing my upraised hand, but I couldn't find my way back far enough to open my eyes.
And then I knew I was dead.
I knew I was dead because through the heavy water, I heard the sound of an angel calling my name, calling me to the only heaven I wanted to go to.