#181 A Virtual Life of Dreams

by Catherine Vibert, Guest Writer

The sound was disconcerting — glass shattering and then a thud. I looked out the window. There was a crowd in the street and a child’s bicycle lay mangled nearby. The offending vehicle was an old Model T — like a scene from the 1930s.

I shut my eyes and held my breath. A voice was singing and I turned toward the sound. It stopped. A light appeared and revolved around the room. Police lights I assumed. I couldn’t bring myself to look out the window again and shut the curtains. Again the singing started, it was a child’s voice, like an angel — high and clear with a sound like a needle. I wasn’t afraid this time. At 87 years, there was very little that actually frightened me.

Life had been full, no doubt… like shards of colored glass, complete with sharp edges so that as each destiny was about to reach its culmination, a painful event would cut it off and I would begin another path. Life was a sea of broken glass and jagged edges on a tapestry of color.

Within the dark room, the light swirled again and a holographic child appeared. It spoke.

“Do you remember?”

The child had my face.

I awakened to see my young, lifeless body lying in a pile of glass, blood pooling on the ground — the angel child took my hand and we ascended.

I had lived a virtual life of dreams, and I was coming home to rest.