He Stepped Into the White Light

“Breathe…” he mumbled to himself. “Breathe…”

The air rasped in his throat and lungs as he took short, shallow breaths. He tried not to think about what he was smelling and tasting in those quick gasps.

“This is not where I was.” he thought to himself, his eyes still clenched shut after that first peek had almost blinded him with the brilliance of his surroundings.

A quick series of breaths led him to a startling conclusion. The air tasted wrong? Strange? He couldn’t decide. It was almost overwhelming in its potency, as if the very air itself carried a taste of nature that he had never experienced before. Overwhelming in it’s very vibrancy, and yet he felt invigorated and almost courageous to open his eyes yet again…

“But I was dead.” he thought. “Out on the slab, looking down at myself.”

He dared to open his eyes again and confirm what the initial look had revealed. He stood in a field of tall wheat, and a sun, almost too bright in it’s haleness, stood tall in the sky.

“Where am I?”

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