Larson woke in a place where the sun shone brightly on the horizon. No dark clouds, no black birds either. Flowers of May added color to the greenery before him. The wind breathed sweet scents into his nose. “But where’s everybody?”
At the farthest end of the greens and flowers, a man wearing platinum armor sat, gazing at the setting orange light. The man placed his winged helm to his right. A brush of grass hinted at the boy approaching him. Acknowledgement flashed in his eyes as he motioned for him to sit by his side.
Larson’s head drooped. He felt as if his burden was lifted, but, at the same time, something was off like he didn’t belong. Next to him, a glowing presence had a silver cape dancing in the wind. The boy looked at him. He seemed to be at peace.
“We meet again, my boy.” The man with fiery hair broke the silence.
Larson asked, “Am I dead?”
“It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?” The man exhaled through his nostrils.
The boy shrugged. “I guess.”