Post by stickeen on Oct 6, 2007 0:22:50 GMT -5
There is no way to explain it.
The feeling of relief; of happiness; of belonging... No, there is no way to describe accurately the feeling of coming home. It is a sensation that surges through the body, stronger than electricity. It makes one want to release all the sudden energy; to scream, to shout to the heavens their incandescent felicity. It is extraordinary.And this is the feeling that embraced Miss Maci Lason that night as she searched the dark waters of the lake. She stood there, drinking in the lovely serenity emanating from the calm waters, her mind intentionally blank. For she did not want to suffer the damage of her own thoughts tonight. Her only priority now was to feel; to heal her wounds with exultation.
And so she stood, her feet bare in the cool, damp sand; blue orbs focused on the water, creating a memory to be treasured for the rest of her days on this fickle planet. She only wore an old black camisole and her favorite pair of worn jeans. Nothing special, but clothes with character... With memories clinging to the seams; memories of happier days...
She sighed and, as well trained as she was in the art of meditation, a lonely thought crawled its way into her mind from the deepness of subconsciousness: If there is a heaven, then I do believe it looks and feels like this.
For in that moment she was in complete contentment. She needn't worry about petty problems such as family when she was surrounded by such a feeling. It hung like a thick, beautiful fog in the air, filling her lungs and pumping through her veins. It was never-ending.
It was perfection.