Darcia walked through the meadow, a place strangely familiar to him. The flowers bloomed everywhere, as if eternally in spring.
"I'm waiting for you," he heard a whisper in his head. "Come find me."
"If only I could remember," he thought. "If only…"
And there she was, a woman of unearthly beauty, sitting amongst the flowers.
"Oh, hello," she said softly. "I love this place…it's so peaceful."
Why, Darcia wondered, does she seem so familiar? A chill went up his spine.
"I'm not bothering you, am I?" she asked, and then looked down. "I'm not used to people being here…no one bothers coming here."
"No," Darcia replied. "Maybe I should go."
She suddenly looked up. "No. Please stay. I would like to talk to you. I mean…" she looked down again. "If that's alright with you…"
Darcia felt an apprehension growing within him, yet he had to know why he felt that way. He had to know…
He sat beside her. "My name is Darcia. And yours is?"
She looked up, looked into his eyes, and…
Darcia woke up, and it took him a moment to realize he wasn't in a meadow. He looked around, only to realize he wasn't sure where exactly he was.
He knew he was dead, and that he wasn't in Paradise, whatever that was. He couldn't quite remember. The truth was, he couldn't remember much. Maybe he was in Hell, or somewhere in-between.
Maybe it was much worse…
The woman. He still remembered her, and how he had heard her in his head before he had seen her. She was waiting for him. He would find her, some day…
As he went back to a sleep that was unlike the sleep of the living, tears formed in his eyes. He whispered a name, though he was not aware he did so.
"Hamona…"