Time Travel Agent

As you can imagine, taking a vacation is the farthest thing from my mind right now. I’ve ankle-deep in trying to understand the mysteries and auguries of how one comes and goes from The Other Side. Do you call it venturing, embarking on a Passage, or simply taking a Journey?

I am beginning to think my Visitants are really Time Travelers. I know they’ve either traveled quite a distance to my house -or maybe not even an inch. I haven’t asked them yet, because we have so much else to talk about. But, I might one day.

I’m not big on travel, myself. I have a semi-fear of flying. Not enough to keep me grounded, but enough to order multiple drinks on the plane. Just saying. But the Apparitions don’t seem to have any fear about getting here or getting back. So maybe their Travel doesn’t include severe turbulence or screaming babies. And, maybe somehow, I’m their Agent.

Time Travel is a definite maybe for my ghosts.. I’m not alone in my belief about Time Travel. There are all kinds of science fiction stories and books about the voyages – The Time Machine, A Wrinkle in Time, even Slaughterhouse Five (Vonnegut is Apparition Nicholas’ favorite author). Just to note a few. I’ve read some of them, at one time or another.

Recently, though, I had another timeless journey – a bit different from the Out-of-Body-Experience of going to Paris. On a recent night, I found myself feeling melancholy about not being able to take the River Cruise with Alvie, so I borrowed one of his Xanax’s and it lulled me to sleep. This time, I found myself in Italy – and I was trying to get to Florence. For some reason, I was the only passenger on the train, and all I had was my guide book. I was looking at the maps, when the train lurched to a sudden stop, and that’s when I woke up.

It wasn’t light out yet, but I had a bit of trouble re-orienting myself in my bed. I remembered so vividly my seat in the train car, and how all the signs were in Italian and, out the window, the countryside whizzing by. I wished I could go back inside that OBE and see if I ever made it to Florence.

But Mutt bounded into the bedroom and jumped on the bed. At that exact moment, a song started playing on my Phone resting on my nightstand. And, It was “Volare.” We both knew someone far away was calling.

Published by Florence Golden

Reluctant Medium -& protagonist in a book about communicating with the departed. Based on Experiences of my Author

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