The semi that slammed into me, I never saw it coming. Screeching tires, a loud metallic thud, and a wave of broken glass all compressed into a single second, before darkness and silence.
Consciousness returns in a hospital bed, my vision cloudy and fading. The nebulous forms of my wife and child are beside me, holding my hand. I can’t make out their words, but I find comfort in the cadence of their voices. Life continues to fall away. It won’t be long now. I try to squeeze the hand in mine, to let them know it will be ok, but to no avail. I’m so sorry. Goodbye.
I awaken in a cloud of light. Does Heaven exist after all? If it does, I better come up with some good excuses as to why I was absent all of those Sundays. That’s strange. I can remember each and every Sunday of my entire life. The other days of the week as well, I can remember them too, in absolute detail. I don’t have to strain to locate these memories; I just… know.
No pearly gates. No angelic choir. No white robed deity.
“Hello?” I ask my surroundings, “Is anyone else here?”
An answer comes, not from without, but from within. I know where I am: I’m everywhere I choose to be. As to others, well… that question doesn’t exactly make sense: It’s just a remnant thought that lingers from my former existence as a human.
I wonder what happened to me. The answer arrives seemingly before I even finish asking myself the question. I remember it vividly now: Planar collision. The fusion of high dimensional space is one of the few things that can wreak havoc on my being. I’ll have to be more careful, next time.
With my mind torn apart, my consciousness collapsed into a mere shadow of its former self: Human. The healing process would soon begin.
Sentience, while no omnipotence, is still preferable to primal instinct: Had I wandered closer to the point of dimensional intersect, I could have found myself a lizard or a cockroach. I remember when I too closely investigated the overlapping event horizons of a binary black hole. Life as a goldfish had been simple and calm, in retrospect. That is, until, I re-integrated myself with the universe. It’s much more traumatic for lower life projections that that of a human, the latter of which are much closer to me in terms of evolution than they could ever imagine.
My absolute knowledge of all things past and present means that I have fully recovered. Unfortunately, I can’t use this infinite knowledge of what has, and is currently, happening to extrapolate information about the future. If I could, perhaps I could avoid setbacks like these.
In the last fleeting moment before all traces of my human existence are absorbed into me, I remember my wife and child. They are here with me. They always have been. They always will be.
It feels good to be back.