Barb and I have known each other since the early 1960’s when her fraternal twin sister was in my grade school class. We’ve had our ups and downs; our pain and sorrows, but through it all we’ve managed to survive.
Barb is psychic, but as anyone who is truly gifted can tell you: true psychics are usually poor because they can only predict what the Cosmos wants them to tell us mere mortals, and as such very rarely conjure up the lottery numbers or anything else that in my opinion is really useful.
Such is the case with my friend Barb, but I still believe in her abilities. She has assisted ghostly entities cross over, whereas I would run away faster than a quarter horse doing a quarter mile sprint. She regularly entertained me with her tales of the macabre; her out-of-body experiences and what happened when her Shaman brother, Norman died.
Barb once told me that her dead father had visited her one night and pinched her as he said she was too fat! Can you imagine such a ghastly thing? I’d have had a heart attack right there on the spot. Not Barb; she cried and asked her dad how he could hurt her that way. That’s Barb.
After Norman died, my young son and I would regularly visit Barb in St. Louis, MO. Whenever I called and said we were coming over, I always said: “Tell Norman, I don’t want to see him.” You might think this crazy on my part, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
Last week when I called Barb; I asked her about Norman. Sadly she said that because she has moved in with her twin sister, Norman is stuck in the house in St. Louis, MO.
My words to Norman and the Cosmos: Norm, you’re a Shaman; don’t you think it’s time for you to cross-over, and I STILL DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU.