My fingertips gradually grow just as numb as the rest of me. At least my encroaching death is soothing relief for these long, aching muscles. They had been absolutely throbbing from the strain of pushing on for miles past their breaking point. The dry fibers felt like the brittle threads of an unraveling rope.

The numbness eventually ceases enough to wipe all that away. As it does, the murky bus surrenders to a brilliant show of dazzling white lights. The colorless fireworks explode too perfectly to ever exist in the real world. Real or not, I’m welcome to casually float among them. All these happy little clouds release me from the grounding chains of my never-ending pain. In this blank landscape, I’m not happy, or sad, or anything else. I simply am. It’s as if I’ve gotten lost on the w...

Please subscribe to keep reading.