A very brief excerpt from Echo Between Worlds, coming mid-2021.
We drift, our engine turning cold. Not cold enough to freeze, but no longer the blaze needed to power the thrusters on our back. We remember drifting, it is familiar to us, conjures memories from the part of us that is fleshy, a time of cold and dark and the endless fear that all we loved were dead. That small fleshy part wonders if maybe it would have been better if they were dead, all those loves.
Maybe they are and this is just a dream perpetrated by our dying mind.
But no, there is oxygen and our fleshy heart beats—
But maybe, the fleshy part insists.
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