Something momentous had happened to me, something so altering and absolute that reality itself was replaced by a new archetype of existence that could no longer be postponed or denied. It wasn’t a matter of voluntarily accepting the fact of my death, any more than one voluntarily accepts the fact of one’s life. It was more basic than that: a simple acknowledgment that this is what is now, and the other is no more. Oddly enough, accepting my death wasn’t terrifying. It was, in a way, liberating. I no longer had to rationalize the bizarre things happening around me and to me. I no longer had to search for a cure to an illness or an injury that did not exist. And, most important, I realized I no longer had to carry the many burdens of life. I no longer had to shower, brush my teeth, eat, sleep, exercise, work, or take care of my husband and daughter. In a very real sense, death is the ultimate vacation away from everything. But death did nothing to ease the pain of losing Bo and Sarah.
What do You think about The Trial Of Fallen Angels?
