The Last Thing You See
Busy writing days. This is the opposite of what summer should be -- indolent. So it goes in our time and place; money must be made.
But there are always photos. I was musing on near-death experiences the other day, for no special reason (fortunately), and I remembered that survivors of such experiences are said to report moving toward a light, a welcoming, friendly light. So much so that they don't want to go back. Makes me wonder just what you'd see in that light, if anything or anybody. But I suppose if you get that far, you aren't coming back.
What if this is what you saw, emerging from the light?