Whoaaaa… What happened? What was that?.....HELLO…Where am I..I was in an accident.. That’s right, that car was on the wrong side of the road and it ploughed right into me. So where am I now? I can’t see anything, it’s so quiet. HELLO….HELLO. Weird, there’s no echo at all, am I outside? It’s not cold. It’s not warm either. I can’t feel anythi…..There’s no me to feel with. What is this…? WHERE AM I…?
This is either a coma or I’m dead. This can’t be a dream, I’m too awake. At least my mind is. It’s so quiet. There’s nothing. I feel like my eye’s are open but it’s all black. But then I can’t feel any eyes either.
If this is death then how long do I have to stay like this? I mean I’ll go mad. I’m already talking to myself. But what if I do go mad, what does it matter, there’s no-one around to rave at. So I’ll just be mad here, on my own. HELLOOOOO….HELLOOOO
How long have I been here? It feels like weeks. There’s no way to measure time, there’s no way to get a frame of reference on anything. I could count. I could count and that way I’ll know how long I wait……..one, two, three, four, five, six……
….Two thousand four hundred and fifty six, two th…
“What are you doing?”
Hello? Who was that…was that you Fiona?
“Of course it was, you know it’s me. Are you really just counting? That’s the best thing you have to think about?”
Fiona, how can that be you, where are you, I thought I was dead.
So that means….you’re dead too?
“Not necessarily, in fact the last time you saw me I was alive wasn’t I?”
Yes but, then, how can you be here?
“You know. Come on have you suddenly gotten stupid or something?”
You’re not here are you? It’s just me imagining you. But you sound so real.
“that’s because you know me so well”
I do. But I know your face just as well I…
You’re there. I can see you. I can see. It’s the first thing I’ve seen since…the crash.
“I’m a bit disappointed in you to be honest. How has it taken you so long to work this out? You’ve been feeling so sorry for yourself, feeling so alone. But we’re all here, me, your brother, our friends, your Mum and Dad, even my Mum and Dad! Every one you know”
But you’re not really there. I mean I can see you but it’s just me imagination isn’t it.
“It’s real enough isn’t it? I mean what more do you want, we’re here; you can see us and talk to us. How is it different?”
But you’re just faces, floating about like that. How is it the same?
“Well put us somewhere then. How about our kitchen?”
Oh. Ok. Like that. This is good, we’re all here. I’m here too, look, my hands, my body. This is ok. But wait, if this is all my imagination, then it’s still all me isn’t it? You can’t think for yourselves, or do anything new?
“of course we can. Those of us that you know well can anyway. You know us, so you know how we’ll react to things, how we think about things. So we’re here. Those of us you don’t know so well, you can guess, fill in the gaps with what you think makes sense. You’re lucky, all those people you met and experiences you had, all those books, all those films. You should be able to populate this place pretty well.
I can do it any way I like? So I could meet anyone, I could meet Humphrey Bogart?
“You can meet Sam Spade if you want, or Rick out of Casablanca, or Humphrey himself?”
So I can do anything I want. I’m limited by nothing?
What does that mean?
“ Well, think about it. You can’t create anything totally new, but you can draw on everything you saw, heard learned and experienced when you were alive. As I say you’re lucky, imagine if you’d died not having done anything with your life, you’d have nothing to fill this place with. You’d just be stuck with the same old stuff over and over.”
That would be hell
“Exactly that. Or worse imagine you’d died with something terrible on your conscience. The memory of would be lurking behind everything, tainting your entire universe. It is Hell. Why do you think you’re told not to sin? Because you’ll regret it in the after life. This place can be heaven or hell, it all depends on the memories you bring with you”
What about that. There’s so much of my life that I’ve forgotten, it seems so unfair.
“It will all come back. Give it time and practice and you’ll be able to recollect every moment of your life. All those little details you thought long gone are in there somewhere. You can even read the books you’ve read all over again”
And it will all feed into my imagination? I can live my whole life over again. But I can avoid mistakes and see what might have happened?
“Now you’re getting the idea. You can re-live your life or any other life”
I can actually be in the A-Team?
“If you really are that sad”
But does this go on for-ever? I’ve got all sorts of great ideas of what to do already but …. Forever?
“Well you know about those Zen Buddhist’s, the one’s that can totally zone out”
“Eventually, when you’ve lived all the lives you want to live, you will reach the stage where you are able to think of absolutely nothing. You’ll just be, forever.”
Ok, I think I understand. I think I’ll get on with it now.
“how are you going to decide where to start?”
That’s easy. I’m going to relive all the time I spent with you a couple of thousand times……then we’ll see about the A-Team.
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