HOME | DD

Description
I watched myself falling in a perfect dive.  We matrixed through the atmosphere, past perfect cloud poofs in a perfectly blue sky.  We fell.  I was myself when the buildings were discernible.

Closer and closer I fell, looking like a broken puppet, just as limp, just as empty. In the middle of a grayscale city where people were sparse, I watched from the ground.  Faceless others turned to see.  I could sense the dawning horror on these faceless passersby.

I watched with the face of a child, yellow bows in my hair.  I fell and watched the ground come up to greet me.  We could both feel these winds of change.

We were content.

We were ready.

I closed my eyes.  A child laughed.  I hit the ground.

The earth shattered. I watched through the child’s eyes as debris and dirt rippled outwards; I felt the aftershock. People were running, falling, panicking.

It didn’t matter.

They didn’t matter.

From the cracked concrete I sluffed off that broken body.  I watched myself rise from the wreckage and peel the red carnage array. Anticipation built like that of a child. I stood: glorious, new and familiar.

“There you are,” she said. She sprang to my arms in a flurry of yellow ribbons.  Identical laughter lilted the air, singing ‘Welcome home.’

Welcome home.

Description
I watched myself falling in a perfect dive.  We matrixed through the atmosphere, past perfect cloud poofs in a perfectly blue sky.  We fell.  I was myself when the buildings were discernible.

Closer and closer I fell, looking like a broken puppet, just as limp, just as empty. In the middle of a grayscale city where people were sparse, I watched from the ground.  Faceless others turned to see.  I could sense the dawning horror on these faceless passersby.

I watched with the face of a child, yellow bows in my hair.  I fell and watched the ground come up to greet me.  We could both feel these winds of change.

We were content.

We were ready.

I closed my eyes.  A child laughed.  I hit the ground.

The earth shattered. I watched through the child’s eyes as debris and dirt rippled outwards; I felt the aftershock. People were running, falling, panicking.

It didn’t matter.

They didn’t matter.

From the cracked concrete I sluffed off that broken body.  I watched myself rise from the wreckage and peel the red carnage array. Anticipation built like that of a child. I stood: glorious, new and familiar.

“There you are,” she said. She sprang to my arms in a flurry of yellow ribbons.  Identical laughter lilted the air, singing ‘Welcome home.’

Welcome home.