At the End of the Beginning
The room was white, completely white: walls, floor, doors, bedding and the white coats! All overly sterile and yet the room felt warm.
It started, the slow lingering sigh, an exhale that seemed to go on and on unnaturally. One of the white coats was gently stroking the patient's arm with the gentleness of a feather falling from the ground. She took a hold of the cold hand and as the exhale became weaker and ended; she placed the hand gently down on the bed. The Doctor looked at the clock and pronounced the time of death, efficiently recording it in black ink. They then passed the certifying document around for the others to leave their marks.
The machines had made their final bleeping descending calls. The High Priestess entered the room, silently almost floating above the floor. She gave her seven blessings, swaying her hands over the still and shrouded body.
There was a feeling of weightlessness in the room, a woozy uneasiness that passed between the white coats. They were about to resume their duties when they uniformly looked down at the figure. They gazed in confusion at the visual spectacle occurring. The face of the body was gradually becoming more and more transparent, to unveil the bone and bloodline structure. A twinkle began from within the whole body, a bright gold and white of small little speckles fluttering and flickering like diamond cells travelling inside the widening veins. The white coats glanced questingly at each other, telepathically asking “could this be…is this the one’? Their silent voices being overcome by the noises in their heads. The High Priestess had a look of devilment about her as she wheeled over the screen and array of wires, one of which was attached to a magnetic purple coloured lotus flower, someone placed slowly this and concisely to the forehead of the figure. They all felt the connection. They tingled from head to toe.
They were experiencing the unknown, the possible and impossible all in one enlightening, freeing moment. The sense of anticipation of what is beyond, the infinite, the black cerebral mass may finally be revealed. The noises in their heads was becoming more and more overwhelming and their telepathy was weakening. They were each concerned but connected to seek what needed to be known. The Priestess continued to adjust the screen. The figure glowed brighter and brighter to where the room was flooded with a white intoxicating energy.
The Priestess opened her mouth to a timeless chant…….
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The nurse, holding the hand of the figure, slowly comes back into the room. She had entered a trance, not wanting this to be the end. “To come to the end of one’s life in this way,” she thought to herself, is cruel. Normally we get to know and understand a patient, either through dialogue with them and/or through visits from their acquaintances…
The screen flickered with images from the seasons, blurred and jumbled. Winter merged with Summer and Spring with Autumn.
Figures came and went. Snippets of a life lived….
Suddenly, the white energy rose to its peak with what felt like lightning bolts passing through them. The voltage was too much to take. They tried to transmit it from one to another. But they ended, the Priestess looked forlorn and defeat now filled the air with a rotten smell of dampness……
copyright Jennene Whiteley contemporary surreal artist