My hands, they’re glowing. They’ve stopped shaking. Now, they glow. As if they are lit from within. As if my bones are luminous. I look down to see if my feet are glowing too. I can’t see them. The lower half of my body seems to be covered in a cloud of some sort. Is it the morphine they gave to ease the pain? But shouldn’t it be up in my head? How did the cloud cover my legs? Then I see them. More cloud-covered people. They look like demi-gods. Long hair, flowing white robes, glowing hands and the faces. They all look so much at peace. Is that how I look? Am I at peace too, at last?
My entry for the daily prompt at The Poetry Question. Today’s prompt was to start a story with “My hands, they’re glowing…”
Hope you enjoyed it.