Cimmy’s Stories is my wife’s other blog. This post and the writing exercise she refers to are based on my frequent, wistful wishes for a therapy/service dog for myself and our son.
My husband, jaklumen, left a comment challenging me to expand on an idea I wrote about in a previous exercise. This is the result. It’s a bit long. If you can get all the way through it, let me know what you think in the comments section below. I may post a further story continuing my adventures in this role. Who knows?
I am tired and fall asleep. Then there is brightness, a shrill noise and suddenly I am looking down at my body in the hospital ICU, all my tiredness gone. Doctors begin running in. I barely hear them. Instead, my attention is drawn to the figure standing beside me, glowing like a young sun.
“You have to go back,” he says. “They still need you.”
“This body is wrecked,” I reply. “How can I go back?”
“You are being reincarnated into a new body,” he smiles…
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