The Judge
I stare at the figure on the floor for one long, aching moment. Those hands that I knew so well. The familiar contour of the unmoving shape of youth. The face that I loved beyond anything - the face that was empty now, what with those unseeing eyes that betrayed that they no more held the power of life. I'm dead. My lifeless body that lay beside said so. But...wait! Am I dead? How am I still seeing and thinking and most importantly, 'feeling', if I was dead? I look down instinctively; I see no arms, no feet, no body - hold on, am I floating? Standing? Flying? I don't know. I don't know what I am - but what could I be ? No body, no breath, no beat from my heart... I wish I could scream, but I find no voice... A flickering thought crosses my mind and I am stunned - am I? Can't be. Or could it be? It makes sense, actually. It could be true. Am I what they call a..well, a soul? So, was that true, what all the books and stories and folklore and scri...