The Little Pilgrim: Further Experiences.: Stories of the Seen and the Unseen. — John Shaqi
The Little Pilgrim: Further Experiences.: Stories of the Seen and the Unseen.Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Religion
The Little Pilgrim: Further Experiences.: Stories of the Seen and the Unseen.
Oliphant, Mrs. (Margaret)
Death -- Fiction
I found myself standing on my feet, with the tingling sensation of having
come down rapidly upon the ground from a height. There was a similar
feeling in my head, as of the whirling and sickening sensation of passing
downwards through the air, like the description Dante gives of his
descent upon Geryon. My mind, curiously enough, was sufficiently
disengaged to think of that, or at least to allow swift passage for the
recollection through my thoughts. All the aching of wonder, doubt, and
fear which I had been conscious of a little while before was gone. There
was no distinct interval between the one condition and the other, nor in
my fall (as I supposed it must have been) had I any consciousness of
change. There was the whirling of the air, resisting my passage, yet
giving way under me in giddy circles, and then the sharp shock of once
more feeling under my feet something solid, which struck, yet sustained.
After a little while the giddiness above and the tingling below passed
away, and I felt able to look about me and discern where I was. But not
all at once; the things immediately about me impressed me first, then the
general aspect of the new place.
First of all the light, which was lurid, as if a thunder-storm were
coming on. I looked up involuntarily to see if it had begun to rain; but
there was nothing of the kind, though what I saw above me was a lowering
canopy of cloud, dark, threatening, with a faint reddish tint diffused
upon the vaporous darkness. It was, however, quite sufficiently clear to
see everything, and there was a good deal to see. I was in a street of
what seemed a great and very populous place. There were shops on either
side, full apparently of all sorts of costly wares. There was a continual
current of passengers up and down on both sides of the way, and in the
middle of the street carriages of every description, humble and splendid.
The noise was great and ceaseless; the traffic continual. Some of the
shops were most brilliantly lighted, attracting one's eyes in the sombre
light outside, which, however, had just enough of day in it to make these
spots of illumination look sickly. Most of the places thus distinguished
were apparently bright with the electric or some other scientific light;
and delicate machines of every description, brought to the greatest
perfection, were in some windows, as were also many fine productions of
art, but mingled with the gaudiest and coarsest in a way which struck me
with astonishment. I was also much surprised by the fact that the
traffic, which was never stilled for a moment, seemed to have no sort of
regulation. Some carriages dashed along, upsetting the smaller vehicles
in their way, without the least restraint or order, either, as it seemed,
from their own good sense or from the laws and customs of the place. When
an accident happened, there was a great shouting, and sometimes a furious
encounter; but nobody seemed to interfere. This was the first impression
made upon me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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