Where They Breathe

    We lived our lives on paper before we knew what any of it meant. We lived easy, simple. There was time for everything. Thats all we had was time. Conversations were light and easygoing. Heated arguments happened rarely. Everyone was cordial with one another. Then He came to town. 

No one knew His name or simply did not speak it. Some chose to call Him a god. Others called Him a demon. Either way, everyone knew what He was about. He preached to us. He preached to us a world higher than or own. He preached to us the words ‘paper’ and ‘life’. He introduced to us the phrase ‘dimensional’. He told us the lives we lived were merely drawings, copies of real life in the ‘third dimension’. That our bodies, buildings, landscapes were nothing but lines on paper. 

He told us of the other world, the world of mass and volume. The world where people breathed. He told of water that was wet, of heat that made you sweat. He told of places that were so cold you’d shiver all over, of heavy clothes you’d have to wear to protect against this bitter cold. He told us of tastes and smells. He told us of light, of love. 

There was a lot He told us. He preached every day. A crowd would gather. Not everyone would go. He turned away no one. People would ask questions. Some would try to argue. Most would listen attentively, drinking in the words spoken by this One who seemed to know all. There were those who would stay after the crowd dispersed to speak with Him directly. They came to Him with their doubts, their praises. He spoke with them all. He turned away no one. 

Not long after He came to town He informed us of His impending departure. He invited those who were willing to leave behind what they knew to follow Him. When asked where He was headed He’d reply thus: “From whence I came.”