The consorts of Death

first I thought it was blood. Later I realised it was tears. But they were hers, not mine.

‘How’s Jan Egil?’ I mumbled, but she didn’t answer.

Now I could hear the sirens, a long way off. But they had nothing to do with me. I was beginning to sink, slowly, calmly, as if I was lying and floating on an upward airstream. I was being lowered into a vast, dark void. I rolled over and lay face down. The pain was receding, and everything felt nice and cosy. Far below I saw the circular light, glittering silver water, which I was on my way towards in the first, and only, perfect swallow dive of my life.