Dean sat in that in-between place. That place between death, life and the afterlife. The place where everything met and converged and diverged and was no more and no less all at once. The sun was setting over him in a bright white and yellow revelation and the clearing expanded before him clear and beautiful and clean and good. He sat on the most verdant green grass he’d ever seen and smelled the freshest air he never thought still existed. Air that was untouched by the advancements of man. Across from him was the little boy. He was looking Dean over. There was something different about him, different about his eyes, his gaze, and the hold of his attention. Dean knew he was supposed to be wary but the differences added up to so much that it was as if looking to a completely different child. It was a mask worn by a new player.
“Where am I?” He asked the child.
( Shine 9 . . . )