![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
side: heaven
[ When you next open your eyes, you find yourself standing in a hallway of stained glass windows; the door behind you closes completely shut before disappearing, you in a corridor that leads to nowhere. You're stranded, here . . . wherever you are . . . ?
The light that reflects through the glass is a gentle one, and the whole place seems to glow, almost binding in illumination - it's been recently swept here, or otherwise recently polished so everything isn't so musty; still, there's a distinct feeling of heaviness in the air. One could almost mistake the feeling for reverence.
There's only one direction: forward, into the light. ]
The light that reflects through the glass is a gentle one, and the whole place seems to glow, almost binding in illumination - it's been recently swept here, or otherwise recently polished so everything isn't so musty; still, there's a distinct feeling of heaviness in the air. One could almost mistake the feeling for reverence.
There's only one direction: forward, into the light. ]
Re: RIGHT HAND OF THE FATHER
[ actually wait. ]