Finite

As I laid my head back on my pillow I closed my eyes. And my spiritual eyes opened. And I saw a room no different from the one in which I slept. Except it was in ruins. The windows were paneless. The vanilla paint was chipped and blowing out of the windows in pieces. The carpet was muddy and torn. There were wasp nests and anthills in every corner of the room.

And as I stood from the torn fabric that was my blanket a withered hand grabbed my shoulder. I turned to face the black-robed figure. So familiar, yet so foreign to me.

And he said, "Look and see, now. Everything is finite." I tore my shoulder from his grasp. He unveiled his face. He leaned toward me and shrieked again, "Everything is finite! " I felt my very insides erupt in fire as I turned from this foul creature. But he grasped my arm and caressed my head. I turned my head to his face and he stroked my hair.

He whispered peacefully this time, "Everything is finite." And I felt my soul go cold in his caress and escape me.

His eyes fell black and we said in unison, "Everything is finite."

I opened my eyes. I looked around my room with renewed vision. And I stood and said, "I am finite."