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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Philosophy/Religion/Spirituality
- Published: 09/04/2017
A View From The Other Side
Born 1947, M, from Oceanside, United StatesA View From The Other Side
“Bobby, if you were still here, I’d send you over to meet the new girl next door. I’ve met her and she’s really nice.”
“I know. I’ve been watching her.”
“You have?”
“Yeah, and not only is she really nice, she has a killer body.”
“Are you allowed to say that?”
“Can’t help it. That’s the way I am.”
“Okay, but I have to go now and finish turning your old bedroom into my new office.”
“Go ahead.”
“So, how does it look?”
“Great, ma! Now if you can only finish that book you’ve been trying to write.”
“Yeah, I know, but it’s been so hard to concentrate since the funeral.”
“I’m sorry I left, but I had no choice.”
“I know, son, but don’t worry; I’m finally getting use to not having you around . . . at least in person.”
“How’s Dad doing?”
“He’s still having trouble coping.”
“I can understand that.”
“But if you tell him you’re happy.”
“I would, but I haven’t been able to connect with him like I can with you, but if you talk for me . . .”
“Now Harrold, I want you to sit down; we need to talk about something . . . I know you don’t feel comfortable with my paranormal abilities, but I’ve been speaking with Bobby and he wants to have a conversation with you . . . Yeah, I know you’re skeptical, but he wants you to know he’s perfectly happy where he is.”
“You’re happy?”
(Mom replies using son’s words.) “Yes, I am.”
“Wh . . . wh . . . what’s it like, son?”
“It’s great! I have my own room and—”
“You have a room?”
“Yeah, dad. You see, once you get here, you can sort of create your own environment. So I created my own dorm-like room.”
“Do . . . do you have TV and stuff?”
“Not only do I have my own TV, it comes with cable channels, and we even have our own cafeteria.”
“You said we . . . ?”
“Yeah. There’s a whole bunch of guys up here. I play soccer with them every day.”
“Martha, is he pulling my leg, or is this true?”
“No, Harold, it’s true. I asked Bobby some of the same questions.”
(Father speaks again.) “You said you have a cafeteria. Does that mean you’re able to eat food?”
“Yep! The food up here is great! You should taste their lasagna, it’s the best I ever tasted! Sorry, ma.”
“That’s okay, Bobby. I would imagine that the food up there would taste heavenly.”
“Very funny.”
“I thought so.”
(Father again.) “So . . . so what’s it like to die? Did it hurt?”
“I was a little dizzy at first, but then once the aneurism burst, it was like going to sleep.”
“Do you have a body?”
“For right now I do. But eventually, I’ll become more energy than solid and I won’t need a body unless I really want to have one.”
“Do . . . do you have a girlfriend?”
“There is someone I’ve been talking to a lot, but she’s not really my girlfriend, at least not in the way you’re thinking. But she is someone I once knew in a previous life.”
“So . . . does that mean there’s reincarnation?”
“It’s kind of hard to explain. You can be reincarnated, but only if you really, really want to. If you do, you get to pick what you want to become in life.”
“But what if you live a bad life? What happens then?”
“I don’t have all the facts, but there is a place where you might have to stay for a while.”
“Is it full of fire?”
“No, but there is a lot of pain, and not always physical.”
(Mother again.) “Bobby, we’re going to go for now. Your father needs to think about what you told him.”
“Okay.”
“Martha, that was so weird. You sounded just like Bobby when you were speaking for him.”
“So, does that mean you’re more comfortable with my abilities now?”
“I . . . I . . . I’m not sure.”
“So Harold, why are you calling from the police station?”
“I was on my way to work, when I could swear I heard a voice telling me to check the house. It kept insisting, so I turned around and when I got there, I found out that two young mean around Bobby’s age had broken in.”
“Oh, my God! Are you alright? You aren’t hurt, are you?”
“No, no, I’m perfectly fine. I did manage to jab one of them in the neck with a pen, but the other insists someone pushed him down the stairs. He ended up with a broken arm . . . Martha . . . could it possibly have been Bobby who pushed him?”
“It’s possible, but I couldn’t say for sure. But if it was, I wonder why he didn’t talk to me first?”
“Obviously, I was closer . . . besides, maybe he didn’t want to interrupt you at your writer’s conference.”
“You sound as if you’re starting to believe in my abilities.”
“You know what? I think I am . . . Anyway, I’ll be home as soon as I finish giving my statement to the police.”
“Just don’t mention anything to them about Bobby.”
“You don’t have to worry about that. I may be starting to believe, but I’m not crazy . . . at least not yet.
A View From The Other Side(Tom Di Roma)
A View From The Other Side
“Bobby, if you were still here, I’d send you over to meet the new girl next door. I’ve met her and she’s really nice.”
“I know. I’ve been watching her.”
“You have?”
“Yeah, and not only is she really nice, she has a killer body.”
“Are you allowed to say that?”
“Can’t help it. That’s the way I am.”
“Okay, but I have to go now and finish turning your old bedroom into my new office.”
“Go ahead.”
“So, how does it look?”
“Great, ma! Now if you can only finish that book you’ve been trying to write.”
“Yeah, I know, but it’s been so hard to concentrate since the funeral.”
“I’m sorry I left, but I had no choice.”
“I know, son, but don’t worry; I’m finally getting use to not having you around . . . at least in person.”
“How’s Dad doing?”
“He’s still having trouble coping.”
“I can understand that.”
“But if you tell him you’re happy.”
“I would, but I haven’t been able to connect with him like I can with you, but if you talk for me . . .”
“Now Harrold, I want you to sit down; we need to talk about something . . . I know you don’t feel comfortable with my paranormal abilities, but I’ve been speaking with Bobby and he wants to have a conversation with you . . . Yeah, I know you’re skeptical, but he wants you to know he’s perfectly happy where he is.”
“You’re happy?”
(Mom replies using son’s words.) “Yes, I am.”
“Wh . . . wh . . . what’s it like, son?”
“It’s great! I have my own room and—”
“You have a room?”
“Yeah, dad. You see, once you get here, you can sort of create your own environment. So I created my own dorm-like room.”
“Do . . . do you have TV and stuff?”
“Not only do I have my own TV, it comes with cable channels, and we even have our own cafeteria.”
“You said we . . . ?”
“Yeah. There’s a whole bunch of guys up here. I play soccer with them every day.”
“Martha, is he pulling my leg, or is this true?”
“No, Harold, it’s true. I asked Bobby some of the same questions.”
(Father speaks again.) “You said you have a cafeteria. Does that mean you’re able to eat food?”
“Yep! The food up here is great! You should taste their lasagna, it’s the best I ever tasted! Sorry, ma.”
“That’s okay, Bobby. I would imagine that the food up there would taste heavenly.”
“Very funny.”
“I thought so.”
(Father again.) “So . . . so what’s it like to die? Did it hurt?”
“I was a little dizzy at first, but then once the aneurism burst, it was like going to sleep.”
“Do you have a body?”
“For right now I do. But eventually, I’ll become more energy than solid and I won’t need a body unless I really want to have one.”
“Do . . . do you have a girlfriend?”
“There is someone I’ve been talking to a lot, but she’s not really my girlfriend, at least not in the way you’re thinking. But she is someone I once knew in a previous life.”
“So . . . does that mean there’s reincarnation?”
“It’s kind of hard to explain. You can be reincarnated, but only if you really, really want to. If you do, you get to pick what you want to become in life.”
“But what if you live a bad life? What happens then?”
“I don’t have all the facts, but there is a place where you might have to stay for a while.”
“Is it full of fire?”
“No, but there is a lot of pain, and not always physical.”
(Mother again.) “Bobby, we’re going to go for now. Your father needs to think about what you told him.”
“Okay.”
“Martha, that was so weird. You sounded just like Bobby when you were speaking for him.”
“So, does that mean you’re more comfortable with my abilities now?”
“I . . . I . . . I’m not sure.”
“So Harold, why are you calling from the police station?”
“I was on my way to work, when I could swear I heard a voice telling me to check the house. It kept insisting, so I turned around and when I got there, I found out that two young mean around Bobby’s age had broken in.”
“Oh, my God! Are you alright? You aren’t hurt, are you?”
“No, no, I’m perfectly fine. I did manage to jab one of them in the neck with a pen, but the other insists someone pushed him down the stairs. He ended up with a broken arm . . . Martha . . . could it possibly have been Bobby who pushed him?”
“It’s possible, but I couldn’t say for sure. But if it was, I wonder why he didn’t talk to me first?”
“Obviously, I was closer . . . besides, maybe he didn’t want to interrupt you at your writer’s conference.”
“You sound as if you’re starting to believe in my abilities.”
“You know what? I think I am . . . Anyway, I’ll be home as soon as I finish giving my statement to the police.”
“Just don’t mention anything to them about Bobby.”
“You don’t have to worry about that. I may be starting to believe, but I’m not crazy . . . at least not yet.
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