Paul returns to his body.

EveryAngel
EveryAngel assumes an enticing form.

PI was in a light and glorious place with no urgency to return to his body. Where he was, it was all peace and harmony like a 60s love song, and he could swear the rhapsody of the Universe, the music generated by the sun, moon and stars surrounding him sounded like Louis Armstrong’s version of “What a wonderful world.”

“I see skies of blue and clouds of white
the bright blessed day, the dark sacred night
And I think to myself
what a wonderful world”

The music engulfed his soul while the light in front of him pulsated and beaconed and welcomed him home and he gazed into a huge pair of radiant eyes that stared right through him. The eyes were clear, diamond-like, with no discernable color yet Paul knew he could turn those eyes into whatever color he wished, just by thinking color.

It was EveryAngel, appearing once more to greet him.

“Meddling needs to happen,” said the light, and PI stared in rapture as the radiant glow transformed itself into a beautiful female body, lithe and oily and slick, a form sure to capture Paul’s attention. “Ideas need to be embraced.”

Starlight flickered from the surrounding darkness.

“Where am I?” PI asked.

“On your way home,” said EveryAngel, reminding him. “You are on your journey.” Her eyes sparkled like deep blue sapphires, and her voice resonated in a sweet melody that enticed him to veer closer. The voice was all around him and went through him and he could feel vibrations tickling his ribs. Paul could smell the hot Jasmine of royalty.

“I hear babies cry, I watch them grow
they’ll learn much more than I’ll ever know
and I think to myself
what a wonderful world…”

“Meddle,” she sang, hypnotizing him. “If you want to live, you must meddle to restore hope. Meddle in the puddle, meddle in the middle, but meddle, meddle, meddle you must,” she continued, breaking into what he considered to be a ridiculously funny dance.

The stars and planets tipped and spun, and PI could feel himself heading back towards the cave, away from the alluring vision. Below him, the raspy voice of the spoiler interrupted his bliss.

“What did I say about the light?”

“But I’m ready.”

“We got shit to do.”

Lightning burst in blinding flashes around his head. Akira was above him, shaking him by the shoulders. Next to her, Billy-Bob’s voice boomed loud and clear, like he was back in Afghanistan issuing orders to fallen soldiers. “Get back on your feet, snap out of it,” he screamed, only half joking.

Paul’s body shook and shuttered, and he wondered idly, coldly, why he couldn’t die right then and there. It was such a warm place and there was so much acceptance.

“The colors of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people goin’ by
I see friends shakin’ hands, sayin’
“How do you do?”
They’re really sayin’,
“I love you.”

It seemed possible to die, Paul decided, but he could die any time he wished…it would be easy… but that dying time would unlikely be now. Then the music grew faint and Louis Armstrong’s voice cracked and faded like an old 45 and what remained was the sound of Akira whispering above him.

“Hi sweetie Pie. Welcome back.”

Paul’s eyelids fluttered. Next to him, Lasseter’s body lay like a heap of old clothes, and no one seemed to care if he woke up or not.

–More later.

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