Very concerned. How close to disaster, probably metres? Life defined and lived by margins. How close to something going really wrong? But he focused on Mel.“Hey let me look in your eyes and take a few deep breathes...we are okay...it’s all okay.”A few deep breathes and Mel realised she was okay. He neck would stiffen up and cane latter. But right now she was okay. She had that heightened sense of being alive in that immediate instance. She felt her lungs fill. Felt Nick’s warm hands on her face, his eyes looking into her eyes. Fuck, a guy, any guy, any male had never looked so fuckin appealing as now. Mel knew the only way completely out of this was a manic stress relieving fuck. And she ignored the fact Nick was her brother.Nick had been prepared in his mind for when the plane hit the ground, though he couldn’t fully control the outcome, though he had tried. Nick however, didn’t see Mel coming for his mouth and body. She hit his mouth with a tsunami of energy and her fingers were. I could hear a soft throbbing behind my right ear like a faint heartbeat. Don't rush this. Let my mind wake up in its own time. Slowly, things were becoming clearer to me.My name is Watts. Harry Watts. Harry Watts was born in 1965. Harry Watts was twenty-five years old. Harry Watts died. I am dead. I remember my death. But where was I? Where had I gone?I am here. Somewhere else.Had I passed over?Too many questions. Think slower.Wake up. My eyes opened. Everything was white again as I tried to focus on where I was and what was around me. I was on my back. Looking up at a white ceiling. With a grunt, I slowly raised my head a couple of inches and tried to look around as best I could. There were four white walls. I was in a room. My arms were either side of me resting on what felt like some sort of bed that seemed to mold itself to my body.It was then I saw the numbers floating in mid-air just above and to the left side of my face. Next to the final number of six was a small yellow.
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