Excerpt: The Star Pendant

Has anyone ever told you that if you die in a dream, you die in real life? Yeah, well, I know first hand that it's not true. I used to die in my dreams practically every night—eyes to the starry night sky, body punctured and infiltrated by large shards of shatter-proof glass, like a hundred needles injecting deadly poisons beneath the skin. While I'd lie on the asphalt, my skin a bloody mess and my lungs barely breathing, I could feel my essence, my soul, as it gradually took it's leave of my body. It was like being slowly drained of fluid, and my consciousness went with it. When I was finally all outside of my body, I would stay there for a little while, and then slowly ascend. I'd drift upwards, towards the sky, as the image of my bloody demise grew smaller and more distant. Looking up, I could see brilliant stars as I grew infinitesimally closer to them. I would be over the Golden Gate bridge somewhere, almost enjoying the view, when consciousness would find me.