The spirits have come.
Figures in white coats hover around, tinkering with various contraptions and whispering jargon. I look at surrounding grey screens, but those do not display warmth, which I desperately wait to see. Suddenly, I know the difference between looking and seeing, hearing and listening, speech and expression.
I love you, spirits, as I feel unloved and unwanted here. I am ready to fly, or take a dip. The water is cool, blue and peaceful. Or is it the sky? I feel the bliss of nothingness, the lightness of just being.
Life support systems are being yanked off.