Patrick couldn’t believe the amazing kaleidoscope of colors that enveloped him. They swirled, and rushed around him, mixing and separating and mixing again into pigments he had never seen before. They seemed so close to his eyes, and yet he could perceive that they went out into infinity. He was a diver in an ocean of translucent, magical paint, which challenged the senses and overloaded the brain. He was caught up in them, and was pushed to some unimaginable destination by the colors’ unrelenting flow. It was the most amazing experience he had ever had, and he believed he was dreaming.

Patrick soon realized, though, that the colors and the experience were too real to be part of a dream. It was reality, not some twisted firing of synapses in the reaches of his brain. He wondered if he and his house had been caught up in some unimaginably goofy disaster that rivaled Boston’s Great Molasses Flood of the 1800s. But, even that far fetched explanation proved unsatisfactory as the volume, and nature of the material that carried him off seemed too un-earthly to be a result of some human mishap. His mind struggled for answers; it was unable to process the unimaginable thing happening to him at this moment.

All of a sudden the colors stopped pushing and swirling. His body began to float and rise. The colors began to settle into solid, recognizable colors, and then into primary colors. He rose faster and faster with seemingly interminable bands of red, yellow, and blue flashing in front of his face. Finally, he reached the top of the ocean, and above him was a sky so bright that it challenged all previous notions of bright, even the meaning of the word “bright” as he had previously held it.

He rotated his body around, half-expecting to see he was behind the frame of a Salvador Dali painting, but all he saw was the ocean of colors extending forever into the horizon. He cried out.

“Where am I!?”

No answer.

“Where am I!?”
“You are dead,” a voice bellowed back.
“Why? What happened!?”
“Carbon Monoxide”
“Damn. But this isn’t possible, I have so much left to do, so much stuff that’s unfinished.” he protested.
“ I know, I had big plans for you, I never saw carbon monoxide coming though. It’s the trickiest of deaths.”
“Who are you? Are you God?” said Patrick
“Well, yeah.”