|
|
Post by admin on May 31, 2010 17:19:33 GMT -5
WELCOME TO AMELIA ISLAND.
She was rolled on her side, eyes rolled up like her body. She was deathly still, water lapped at her sides, and her mane hung in languid ropes, gnarled and desperate. No air stirred around her. There was not a noise from her body, a fly landed on an un-quivering nare, and her joints were stiff.
She was dead.
Funny, how death worked. It stole the breath from your body and left it broken, inside, and in some cases out.
But there's something about death that's so... final. So ending. So done.
Until, of course, suddenly the mare's eyes flew open.
Death always likes to switch things up.
Welcome to Amelia Island. You have come here through a circle of blue. Death has a funny way of doing that, too. Did you see the light? Did you hear a beautiful noise, or feel a terrible pain? Oh, the circle doesn't care. It sends you here anyway.
Some call it a second chance; some call it eternal hell.
ahhh, not dooone.
|
|
