She couldn't remember how she got here. She remembered a few things, like her favorite smell, her favorite color, though she didn't remember why or the significance.

She felt alone, even in a crowd. Among her friends, a stranger. They knew her, told her things about herself, but she didn't even remember those people.

An accident. She was told there was an accident. It involved a fire. So, she was told. She would space out the more she was told. She couldn't remember and it was frustrating enough that she would stop listening.

In her dreams when she slept, there were flashes of a life that seemed to be hers. But was it? Or was it all a dream? Or nightmare? One of the two. Maybe it was nothing.

It was in fact, nothing, but it was something. She was remembering her last moments as she was leaving this world. Her favorite smell was in fact just the last thing she smelled, the sulfur from the hot fire engulfing her vehicle after the crash. Her favorite color, the reddish orange of the flame. Those friends, departed souls leading her on the the next destination. She was remembering her last living moments as she faded and left this world.

Jessica Boyer

@jesaleigh

Jessica Boyer has not written a story.