It is time

"Take my hand; it is time," he whispered, his voice velvet soft. I knew he could not see my face in this dim light. Could not see the apprehension, the fear, and the confusion contorting my face like soggy cotton candy. My face hurt from it. I knew my tiny hand was reaching for his large bear paw of a hand, but I could not remember directing it to move, perhaps it was the way my breath refused to be caught. Maybe it was soggy cotton candy stuck in my lungs and throat. Soon as my shaking fingers touched his warm palm, the blinding light struck me...