Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #18 September 2015 | Page 75

The front legs of the gurney raked the bumper
of the ambulance and folded with a series of metallic
noises, thrusting Christie into blinding light. Her eyes
rolled, and tried to resist the light’s invasiveness; however, the effort was too demanding.
friend.

As she closed her eyes, she found an awaiting

#
Oblivion’s darkness engulfed Christie in its
embrace with no need for coercion. Her longing for
comfort guided her in the same fashion a flower longs
for the sun. The tranquillity engrained in the darkness’s existence was incomparable to anything she had
ever known. Its rich lustre seemed resilient of desire,
and embodied complete Zen.
#
“Get out of the way!”
Christie stirred at the sound of the stern voice.
Its owner was full of purpose and empty of patience as
he barged her through the ER’s doors.
Her eyes fluttered, catching a glimpse of fluorescent light as she swept underneath them.
A woman’s voice demanded vitals.
“Patient is suffering from internal bleeding,
caused by abdominal trauma, and is having difficulty
breathing on her own. Blood pressure is 78 over 51.
Heart rate is 39, and dropping.”
“Jesus! Nurse Heinz, get her to OR, NOW!
And get the crash cart set up. I’ll…”
#
The totality of Oblivion’s never wavering
comfort astonished Christie as she sank deeper into
its abyss. With every breath she inhaled of its essence,
she wondered how anybody could not love its nurturing and unabated presence. Its gentle finesse enhanced
her desire to remain in its grasp.
As Christie moved about Oblivion’s inner-

most chambers, she sensed its acceptance without any
inquisition or resistance.
Mi casa es su casa.
The invitation awaited a response as she found
herself at the shore of an endless lake. Its water lay
as placid as glass. Its dark colour reflected an unexplained sheen across its surface, which oddly brought
lyrics of “The Chain,” from Fleetwood Mac to mind.
“Listen to the wind blow…