High winds and driving rain prompts me to consider Death's shocking message to Brain:

  Not only will you give up what you spent a lifetime learning and collecting, you will never know anything more.

This "crossing over" is different than expected!

In a dugout canoe, naked, my face painted, i paddle to the center of an ancient lake. Steam's rising from its dark waters. There is a woman, naked too, facing me. She smiles warmly, but I don't recognize her, which she seems to sense, and with one swift move is gone: no splash, no bubbles. Frightened, i begin paddling toward the shore, which I notice is perfectly round, and no matter how hard i paddle, or in which direction, it keeps moving further away.

 

 

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