Chapter 4:


Wistful Dandelion

Outside the door, a long corridor with a few rooms on each side. The whole place was rather ordinary.

He leads me down the hallway, the walls a bleached blue astride a magnolia red carpet. Windows line all the way down, but they seem to be closed.

After walking for a minute, we reach a door in the middle of hallway. He takes out his case of keys and opens this door, beckoning me inside.

A room similar to the one we were just in. The only noticeable difference is another door that seems to lead outside.

Outside. Right. I still haven't seen the extent and limits of this world.

"So what's on the other side of that door?"

"The world you lived in."

"Really? So this world exists solely inside this building?"

"Very much so."

"I see why you're such a dull character now."

He remains deadpan, although at this point I assume his default expression is without one.

"Once you go through that door, this whole experience will become a dream to you. You'll be reborn anew, and hopefully live a joyful life."

"And you'll be watching over me?"

"You think too much of me. I'm merely fulfilling my duties as the messenger. Once you leave, I'll never be in your life again."

"You've never had the same person come back to see you again? To this purgatory?"

"It's possible, I wouldn't know. You're not reborn under the same image, so I would have no idea if the same person came back."

"How charming."

A door no different than the one I came through, and unguarded as well. I have to reiterate, this whole experience while surreal has been rather... dull. I suppose my background in magic lead me to greater expectations of the after world.

"Is there anything else I should know before I go through?"

"It wouldn't be of use to you anyway, you'll forget it as soon as you leave."

"Fair enough."

The door is barely six feet tall, with only a small wooden handle to push through. If I didn't know any better, I'd think it was just the entrance to another room.

I look back to the man, and he stares back. But we're past the point where words are useful, so I return my gaze and get a firm grip on the door handle.

There's a chance this is all a trap, but I'm living on borrowed time anyway. I've already made peace with myself so whatever happens next I can accept. 

With only the slightest hesitation, I open it.

Once more, into the breach.