Disclaimer: I do not own The Fountain which inspired this little piece of fiction. Nor do I own the first line, that belongs to Aldous Huxley.
He had discovered Time, Death and God. It was not a discovery that he purposefully set out to achieve, and yet he stumbled across it. He didn't know nor care about the mysticism of the world as he was content to sit in his home in perfect solitude. But in this strange evening, he ran out of milk, not that this was strange it was a simple occurrence, yes, but one that needed tending to. So he snatched up his coat and prepared to carry out this simple errand. Now an errand as easy as this should not delve into the mysteries of the unknown, but how mistaken he was.
As he exited his home, a small, quaint cottage on the outskirts of the city, he walked unknowingly across a boundary in the world, one that hadn't been crossed since the time of the ancients. His car was nowhere to be seen and his neighborhood, all of the familiar homes and people were gone. They had winked out of existence, disappeared.
In their place, a great tree had grown, tall and wide, it's huge branches stretching wide across what looked to be similar to his yard. And as he gazed at the splendor it began to glow, and with such perfection did it shine. It grew brighter and brighter, golden, as if a pice of the sun dropped out of the sky and landed in the he moved toward the tree and with such care he touched the bark as if it was the most delicate thing in the universe. As he caressed the surface it began to glow brighter still, until finally he could no longer stand the intensity. The light was too much; his eyes burned. They were on fire in their sockets.
And then suddenly all went dark.
There was no light, no tree beneath his hand, not an existence in the world. He was alone with that faint rush of wind as he fell through time and space, gazing at the distant glow of gold, light years away.
Fin.
This is my first fiction and I would much appreciate any and all reviews. Thank you.