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It was fresh and clean now. Drinkable even. Swimmable certainly. And that’s exactly what I had been doing: swimming, diving, losing my boundaries, reveling in the freedom of this crystalline shimmering liquid astral womb-space.
There were things of interest on the bottom of the womb-cavern. Large, round incandescent stones, each with it’s own unique shade of living luminescence.
I flitted from stone to stone, excitedly lifting each one closer for inspection. Some were completely clear and empty, yet others bore the imprinted holographic faces of passed loved ones.
As I peered more intently into one of the stones, I could see that it contained an image of my grandmother’s face. It was furrowed in concentration: lips pursed then released into a sly grin.
In another, I found my Grandfather scowling ruggedly in mock stoic anger, and then ogling hilariously behind his thick-lensed glasses. Another still, held the image of my uncle Mack trying to look fearsome through his partial set of teeth: one part bourbon swilling Santa Claus, three parts lovable grizzly bear.
These were not my expressions, they were characteristic of the people whom I associated them with, yet somehow at the same time they were mine. I soon realized that the holograms in these stones became animated, not of their own volition, but by an exact mimicry of the movements of my own face as I pondered and reminisced into them.
There were friends there too. Little Petey frowning morosely because he had hocked his guitar tuner to the pawnbroker for drug money and couldn’t quite find the right tuning on his base. The Eureka moment when he snagged it, his lips pursing into a determined snarl of creativity, head loosening into a deeply satisfied chicken-headed bob as the heavy bass-lines began to flow.
Everyone I had ever known who had passed away was here, each with their own stone. I visited each accordingly, sharing their expressions as reflections of my own emotions. I soon found no separation at all. All were part of me, as I were of them.
My awareness expanded to take in the far end of the chamber. At a depth of about twenty feet or so the crystalline shimmer of the water was beginning to fade out into a deeper, more complete kind of darkness. I could however, still clearly make out a chamber beyond of roughly equal size. And as I moved into it, I could see that beyond it lay another, and then another; each illuminated by it’s own population of bio-luminescent stones.
Lives, lifetimes, shared, intertwined. Karmic unravelling. Soul groups. We are but mirrors held up to one another by the mighty hand of the universe. We reflect nothing that is us, yet everything that we are.
To be continued…
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