A thunderclap jolted me from
sleep. Pulling the blankets closer to my chin, I listened, hoping the
storm would blow over. Another roll of thunder grew in intensity, as a
line of drummers, building to the final cymbal clash. Glancing out the
window, I could see no sign of a storm as the stars sparkled against
the blue-black sky. I fumbled for my flashlight and shuffled down the
hallway toward the kitchen, anger simmering as I thought maybe one of
the kids was playing their music too loud again. Don’t they
have any consideration for others who might be trying to sleep?
Halfway through the family room
I noticed light streaming from beneath the closet door. I haven’t been
able to open it since moving into this old house. Curious, I walked
over and tugged on the handle and was surprised when it opened with
little effort. A light so fierce radiated from somewhere deep within
and pierced through my soul. I shielded my eye as best I could, fearing
the intensity of the light. Its magnetic force drew me deep into the
closet.
Mixed with the booms of thunder,
I heard a voice, “Look up.”
Compelled to obey, I held my
hand as a shield above my eyes and squinted into the light. Its
brilliance remained, although less fierce. At last, I could see the
source—a golden throne, pulsing with its radiance.
A man stood before me. His eyes,
gentle, crinkling in the corners, showed his readiness for a good
laugh. He reached out his hand for me to take.
“Where am I?” I could barely
find my voice.
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