Vanished Into The White by jordanwphotography, literature
Literature
Vanished Into The White
I was dead. I had to be, or at least close to it.
There was white, and the involuntary spasms of every muscle in my body. Or, every muscle I had left. Little pieces of white landed on my forehead, on my lips, on my eyelashes. I was being tucked in with a blanket, so fresh and clean.
Apart from the whiteness, I saw that I was surrounded by lofty figures. For the figures, a brother was dead. They swayed over their loss, either in mourning or frustration. I couldn't tell. Did the figures sway for me, too?
Fingers pointed. Some pointed to the sky, some to the ground around me, but most pointed at each other. As if he were to blame for the d