Roses fell like rain.A Story by Danny MetcalfeA very famous ancient Greek had once told me three-dimensional life is the school of corpses. The corpses are happy as long as they are unaware, they are dead. The atoms of their hymns must be a certain frequency as to not shock them into purgatory for a length of time. I remember my life as a corpse and singing those three-dimensional hymns. They dry out the throat like the hot sand of a desert. I would get such bad throats I would lose my voice for long periods. It wasn’t until I started going to the electric church, I began to get it back. I then started to sing electric hymns and my voice soon rose to the heights of electric dreams and then not long after I began to grow fifth-dimensional skin. I looked at myself in an earthly mirror and I had no reflection. At first, I was unsure of my condition, but shortly after I was greeted by some very nice high vibrational beings who explained everything to me. They told me the earthly sun cannot sustain me anymore, and I must get my sustenance from the crystal sun. My DNA had now been crystallized and my body would be invisible on earth to the majority of people. I do recall in my three-dimensional life, as a child seeing phantoms beyond the spectrum of earthly vision. I would see cities in the sky, floating like giant birds. I would see them vivid as a picture and then suddenly they would disappear. I told my mother who said I must be seeing things. I mentioned such things to my mother a number of times and in the end, she took me to a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist told my mother I am mostly likely hallucinating or I must be a saint. They medicated me anyway and I stopped seeing such things. In adulthood I did start to see such things once again but I ignored the experience of my eyes. Obviously, I deceived my own vision as I now live and work in one those large cities in the sky. My job is to answer the prayers of corpses. I do not answer every prayer. I come to the aid of those who do not understand their language. I am currently working with a German man, living in America. He works in a very prestigious university lecturing history. His teeth have recently fallen out due to bad dental hygiene. The bad dental hygiene is a result of unclear perception. It is a very common problem among corpses, if not the most common. The symptoms of unclear perception are acute to severe depression and or anxiety, or at the other end of the spectrum an unwavering happiness with your own ignorance. The German man was not happy. He was suffering with depression. He had acquired some false teeth to ease such feelings but it seems to have not helped his condition. He is in love with one of his students. She is a young brown haired 22-year-old. They have made love on a few occasions, spent some nights together drinking cocktails and wine and delving deep into conversations of history and philosophy. She has now found an interest in another and has become bored of his company, unless she is in need of some help in relation to her work. He often obliges and in return hopes for something more than she is giving him. His prayers have been of a desperate nature. Mostly requesting the young brown-haired woman fall in love with him. This is not something I can grant, as it goes against the free will of the spirit. The German man on bended knee at the side of his bed, with hands clenched together and touching upon the centre of his head, prays…’O Lord I am mightily perplexed! My heart is in such a frightful disillusionment. I long for the heart of a young brown-haired beauty. O Lord grant me the heart of this goddess!’ I heard his cries of torment but I was at a loss and his wishes were out of my hands. To help with his unanswered appeals, he started sleeping with prostitutes and getting into fights at his local bar. In the morning after some drunken brawl, he would look at himself in the mirror and see the skeletons of his psyche dance to the music of his suffering. The university had given him a warning for his behaviour. The black eyes he had received were too obvious to hide. To some of the students it gave him a mysterious edge. One student came on to him and he gladly took up the offer. He slept with her a couple of times and soon lost interest. The student soon became a bit of a pest and started following him around. ‘LEAVE ME ALONE!’ he shouted at her in one of the university corridors. She then ran off crying into the toilets. The stress of his heart was giving him bad headaches--- His head throbbed like dynamite ready to go off. It is a three-dimensional ailment that I am able to ease by manipulating the energy of his brain frequencies. I did the correct course of action and his headaches soon decreased. Because of this his head became clearer and he decided to visit a fortune teller. He explained his woes to the fortune teller and she told him he must plant roses that grow to the height of the heavens, this would give him a sign and told him he must water the roses with prayer. He listened to the fortune teller and purchased some rose seeds and planted them in his garden. On bended knee at the side of his bed, with hands clenched together and touching upon the centre of his head, he prayed every night for a month---‘O Lord give life to these seeds, let the sun feed their roots and allow them to reach the heights of your love.’ I answered his prayers and the roses did indeed grow to the heights of heaven and to give him the sign he was searching for I cut the petals of the roses, so they fell like rain from the sky. He ran outside into his garden, witnessed the shower of roses, felt an electric shock up his spine and between two clouds saw a floating city. He was unsure as to what he was seeing and no sooner had it appeared it was gone from sight. He rubbed his eyes and went to bed that night praying for an explanation. © 2020 Danny Metcalfe |
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Added on December 23, 2020 Last Updated on December 24, 2020 AuthorDanny MetcalfeUnited KingdomAboutI am a writer, poet and playwright. All works are first drafts. My favorite writers are: Arthur Rimbaud, William S Burroughs, Clarice Lispector, Robert Walser, Julio Cortazar, Mikhail Bulgakov,.. more..Writing
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