Ebony Wings

34

~Ali~

I am not on Earth anymore, that much is clear. But if I am not on Earth then I am at a loss as to where I am.

My surroundings offer little information in helping me identify my location. All I see is a warm light and the fog of low-hanging clouds. Vague, I know. So I squint. I don't know why I think squinting will help because it doesn't, so I stop. The air is soft and clean across my sweaty skin, making me feel like somewhat of a stain on new carpet.

My old clothes are gone, replaced by a simple, ivory cotton dress and bare feet. I am alone without a soul in sight -

- No.

Someone is here. I can feel their presence like a dull pulse in the air. Not anyone's presence, though. There is someone here linked to me on some inexplicable level, the tether connecting us stronger and tighter than anything I felt with Ethan back on Earth. It is almost tangible, like I could reach inside of myself and grab the silk-web strings between my fingers.

A weight settles across the back of my head and I know somebody is watching me. They are close. Or maybe not so much. It is hard to tell. But there is a noise; a whisper like chimes in the wind.

"Hello?" A woman's voice chirps, easily distinguished by the chiming lilt to her tone. I spin around in circles, disorientated by the hazy surroundings as I search for her.

"Hello?" I cry out into the starkness. A mild wind picks up and the ruffle of clothing signals someone approaching. I stiffen, suddenly nervous about who might appear from the mist.

Then she appears, manifesting from the clouds. As her shadow appears, I know she is not the one my soul is strung to. But grateful I still am for the presence of another person. Like a theatre curtain being drawn open, her silhouette parts the cloudy veil and I look upon her with a resonating awe.

Golden waves of hair tumble wild and freely down her back, fanning outwards in the wind as she walks. Much like her sunshine hair, her creamy dress floats in the wind, sweeping outwards by her feet and fluttering along the floor. Her features are soft, russet eyes and baby pink lips with rosy cheeks to match. A thin, pale ring of light sits proudly upon her crown, barely noticeable, but enough to make her beauty glow.

"Hello, child. Your soul has returned," she praises with genuine excitement, welcomingly spreading her arms out by her sides. I stand still and awkwardly fiddle with the tightly woven fabric of my dress, feeling utterly inadequate beside her. "Please, come with me." A hand glides towards me, beckoning me to follow her through the misty world. She strides away, her body moving like water, her steps as silent as the bottom of the ocean. My movements are clunky in comparison as with no choice, I chase after her.

The ground is spongey beneath my naked feet yet tough enough to steadily walk upon. Oddly, the floor seems fleecy, too - wispy, translucent arms swaying to an unheard melody along the ground. My toes dampen with condensation as I churn the foggy tendrils.

I tread carefully on my tip-toes like a dancing ballerina as I attempt to lighten my leaden feet. Our walk is short and enjoyable, the silence between us comfortable as we enter a large clearing where the steam lifts. Warmth bleeds from the air, vanilla clouds suspended above our heads as a cool, crisp breeze pushes the puffs of vapour around. A crowd, much larger than the one in my previous vision, sings and caprioles, gliding with fiddles and clarinets and ukuleles as they twirl.

The air clears and so do my ears as a cacophony of symphonic music bursts around me - raspy violins, the rounded notes of the piano, the strident cellos, humming violas, the drifting lilt of the harp and reedy flutes - the tender curves of the melody flourishing harmoniously. The angels mingle amorously with one another, swaying with the delicate tunes. Smiles are exchanged like currency and flurries of ruffling wings sign for their excitement. I morbidly wonder if I am dead.