"When life events mimic shattered glass, carefully
locate the pieces then gently pick them up."
Gina Greenlee
The glass shattered above my head, and pieces were streaking like stars falling from the sky. In slow motion I envisioned wholeness in my mind's eye and then looked at the multiple pieces exploding and embedding themselves into whatever was near by.
The piercing sound of explosion was still kept at bay while I picked at splinters in my scalp and dabbed at the blood surfacing from all parts of my shaking body. I had simplistic thoughts about not having flip flops on and pondering how I could walk through the sea of glass before me.
A loud whooshing noise pierced the stillness in my body and pain came crashing in. My vision startled, noticing for the first time the presence of others. No one was moving. I longed to hear cries of pain or see tears of anguish, but only death remained. As the sole survivor, picking up pieces would become my purpose yet again. (Nightmares happen ...)
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