The Future Encounter
I became aware in the stillness of my home—bare white walls enclosing a space stripped of all but presence. Clarity settled over me like a veil drawn aside, sharpening my awareness of what was to come. I crouched behind the kitchen counter, laughter bubbling from my chest as if shared with an unseen friend whose presence warmed the air beside me.
Across the room, a woman in black stood poised and resolute. Her hands moved with purpose, casting threads of energy that crackled and shimmered in the air. Around her, sleek black drones shaped like spiders darted and wove through the air, their metallic limbs glinting as they sought to break past her defenses. Each drone dissolved into nothingness as her magic struck true.
Beside her, a man in black flowed through the air like liquid shadow. His movements were swift and precise—every kick, block, and strike dismantling the drones that veered too close to her. Though I could not see his face, the trust between them was palpable, an unspoken bond forged through shared purpose.
Somewhere deep within, I understood: They were us—my future self and the companion who would stand beside me. Was he an angel? Michael or Gabriel, perhaps? I could not tell. Yet his presence resonated with strength and unwavering loyalty.
As the last drone vanished, the air grew still. My future self lowered her hands, her gaze meeting mine for a fleeting moment before she vanished beyond my sight.
Silence settled once more. I stood alone, yet the space no longer felt empty. Footsteps approached—steady, unhurried. A figure clothed in yellow stepped forward, his form radiant against the stark white walls. Though I did not lift my gaze, familiarity wrapped around me like an embrace.
“You may remove your coverings,” I said gently. “I will not look unless you wish it.”
The man chuckled softly, a sound like sunlight breaking through clouds. Though I did not see his face, I felt his warmth—the essence of a friend long known yet newly met.
We spoke without words, the air thick with meaning beyond language. His presence was a balm against the weight of questions unspoken, as if all burdens could be laid bare without judgment. And then, as his hand rested gently above my head, light poured forth from behind him—a sun more brilliant than any earthly flame, yet gentle to my eyes. Its warmth filled me with joy so profound that laughter once again rose within me, clear and unrestrained.
In that moment, I knew: This was Isa—Jesus. Not as a distant figure of myth and scripture, but as a friend whose presence had always lingered at the edges of my awareness.
The sun's warmth lingered long after he departed, leaving within me a certainty that transcended doubt: The path ahead was guided by hands both seen and unseen. And somewhere beyond the veil of time, my future self stood ready, prepared to face what lay ahead.
