Light III

He could feel drizzle patting his face.

To the best of his ability, he stood up. Anew, darkness enveloped him.

He pondered about what he had just experienced, which was patently a dreadful nightmare. Yet everything was so real, that he couldn’t persuade himself not to recall that dream.

In a moment, he caught sight of something in the distance, something that was gigantic enough to be seen. It was hard for him to put down the desire to approach it. He started padding, but he sensed something preternatural. As if he was walking through a long narrow corridor, in which there was solely enormously faint light.

When he finally reached the thing, he was astonished to find that he was facing a boundless wall which was clearly insurmountable. Scarcely had he had time to figure out what was happening when he was sucked into an exceedingly strong whirlpool, losing his consciousness.

He was astounded again when he opened his eyes.

In his sight there turned seasons. He could see fresh green seedlings protruding, carefree swallows singing and dancing freely in spring, and the brilliant sun creeping up gradually, tiny trees slowly growing to a huge proportion during summer, and with autumn coming the golden foliage fell, embellishing the azure blue sky, and before long clean white snowflakes began to appear, which indicated that winter had reigned the ground. It was quite amazed that he was able to recognize the various colors in no time, as well as the weathers he used to feel and the planets passing over head. What he once could only heard of was just in front of him, like an ancient but exquisite picture scroll opening before his face by degrees. Wherever his vision went, the superb landscapes appealed to him.

He was immersing himself in this fabulous world when in an instant, as if a heavy gate was opened, recollections flooded his brain.

He attempted to cast his mind back, and something mysterious occurred.

He could see his father holding him in his arms, while his mother cradled his brother, staring at two little lives, humming a familiar song he had heard for many times. He could see he and his brother climbing up and down at home, and his brother frequently lending him a hand without which he might have fallen off the table that was still higher than him. He could see the family outing, during which his relatives did not get weary of guiding him, telling him what was going on around, such as fragrant flowers dancing with colorful butterflies. So joyful was he at that time that as he thought, in his heart a knot was untied, and the ice melted.

Never had he realized that so many fantastic memories had been missing since his third birthday, for which he would have lived delightedly, appreciating the love and hope on earth, summoning up the courage and confidence, to strive for an entirely different life.

But it was said there was no sense crying over every mistake, for what had been done was unchangeable. He smiled, blandly, as he floated in the air, higher and higher.

Looking down, he saw himself, just lying, peacefully, on the snow-covered ground.


“There lies a wall, up to the heaven, down to the hell, left to infinity, right to where you cannot see.”

“This wall is called death.”

“Only when a person is confronted with this wall will he look back upon his entire life.”