Remember my last post about my dear friend’s quick departure from this world? The shock has worn off and I got around to looking over my Quickbooks she just updated and then I received the bill. She left me the highest bill ever and besides, she forgot to enter two social security checks and had placed a deposit in the wrong account! Oh, was I  going to give it to her! And have her lower my bill. Then, after squabbling, we would talk about old friends and who was sick, drinking too much—whatever gossip there was about our old bunch of buddies.

But she up and died. In her sleep. I have no one to bitch at and I have to pay that bill to her estate and who knows who is going to snatch that money and run? And I miss my friend.

Damn I wanted to talk to her. Then I had a brilliant idea. Maybe I could reach her by text messaging on my IPhone. After all, that call goes through the ether and maybe she could tap in, wherever she is.

Guess what? It worked! I cleaned up our text message doublespeak and here is the transcription:

Susan, is that you? This is fantastic!

Hello Peter. It’s me for sure. I’m just out of sight, in another plane, a world that is almost the same as yours.

Where are you?

Right next door. It is a little higher. Imagine looking into an aquarium. I have to look down into your world.

Wow, Susan. Can you play golf?

I did this morning, it was a beautiful summer day, the sun warm and benevolent and the greens were emerald bright. A soft breeze was blowing.

Play well?

I can’t recall. That’s not important.

Sail, hike, ski, play bridge?

Oh all those things.

So what’s the difference?

Well, I’m dead. We don’t have all that mass. Actually, there is none of that. It’s like a virtual world. A matrix.

Are all our dead friends there?

If I want them. There are billions of these planes, which we enter when we die. We can make them private. Well, I saw my old boy friend. Remember Ted who bit the head off my parrot? He died in his sleep, like I did. Ted walks around with that jerky motion he always had and keeps trying to flit away the headless parrot that sits on his shoulder.

Your family?

Oh, now and then. Not too much. You know how it is with family.

Who else?

All my old pets are here. That’s fun. We go for walks, and the dogs follow around when I am riding.

How was it, moving over?

It was nothing, just a buzz, then silence and I woke up and there was this world just like the one I died in. An alias world, I guess. I just moved over into my alias bed. I like snuggling under the blankets. Of course I never sleep. As I said, it’s a virtual world. You can’t touch it, but our minds are here, just our body and anything material is wasted away.

How about those who are young who died, or are killed? Are you a ghost?

Oh My God No! I’m completely gone from your world. You’re talking about people trapped half in your world, half in mine who didn’t finish out the life they intended to live. They need to have closure. Sometimes, if they are in a house, a thorough renovation by the new owners will do it, particularly if they don’t like the decoration or the new owners.  Other times it’s a spiritual thing.

Susan, are you coming back?

Sometime. I can pick my mother.

But what if she aborts you?

Oh, if that happens, we just pick another mother. We don’t move in until the first breath. I think I want to come back as a golden retriever. When I’m ready.

Wait, before you go. That last bill you gave me for bookkeeping was too high. And you made mistakes. Nothing matched my electronic statements. I’m ripped and I have to pay the full amount to your estate?

Oh, don’t worry about such little things. Wait until this world comes to you. No money. No lawyers. No taxes. No banks. No Shaws. Just us. Our souls you call it. Our virtual identity. But don’t hurry it; there are other planes for some type of people and what they did or what happened to them. They have their problems. For a while, at least.  …Got to go. I’m taking my pets for a walk in the fields. Guess what, I’m never out of breath!

And that’s it. My IPhone went blank. I’ve tried to reach her since and it hasn’t worked. But I know Susan is a lurker, soaking up gossip that splutters and bounces in the ether. I’ll catch her sometime, hopefully before she becomes a golden lab.




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