An excerpt from my Work in Progress (WIP)
PROLOGUE “I was not there when I died, but she remembers everything. These words are my words, though I never spoke them. The one who saw it happen was not me. She remembers falling into the clear light and then rising, like an arrow shot from the heart. She saw it all and gave it to me as a gift, open-handed. I was sixteen when it happened. There was a sickness taking many souls. They say I took ill and mother cared for me. I became weak and lost touch with living. They told
