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Abstract

ul howl that made my skin crawl. Seeing my shudder, he slowly changed before me, morphing into a mature woman who had wrinkles and had seen some life. She looked fun and kind but kind of sad too.Bill stood, running his hands down her curvy body to settle them on the hips. “Better? Come on, we need to go!”Whoa. Hold up! “I’m not dead. I’m not Catholic. And I’m not going anywhere with a devil! You can literally go to hell on your own.” I stood up and found myself in my living room.It was disorienting. To go from blank walls to my comfortable and slightly messy couch. Looking around, I saw that we weren’t alone. Bill was there with me. So was my husband watching some videos and one of my kids doing her own thing on the phone, ignoring the world. I sat on the couch, blindly watching nothing.I watched myself sit there. I watched myself do nothing. Not trying to talk with my kid. Not trying to speak with my husband. Sit there and stew about the day. Eventually, the time started to flow, and my daughter and kids flew around the living room like they were on fast-forward. My husband moved around, too, like he had sped up. Yet I stayed there, motionless on the couch.“Look, she’s moving! Oh, thank goodness I’m finally moving!” But that joy was short-lived as I watched myself lie down on the couch from sitting.“No, No, No…no.no. Get up! Do something! Go somewhere! Do SOMETHING with your life. Don’t just sit on the couch. Make a decision, for fucks sake.”And then, we were back in the waiting room.I slumped in the nearest chair. Head hanging low, I felt tears prick my eyes. A few drops fell. When I was ready, I looked to my left and saw Bill sitting next to me. He had transformed again, but this time into my own

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image.“You’re me, right? The devil I have inside? The things that I struggle with are. Decisions that I haven’t made yet. All the I don’t know.”Nodding, my copycat smiled sadly at me.“This waiting room. This is my mind, isn’t it? It’s not real. It’s my own purgatory. It’s my prison. A room of my making. I put myself here.”The copycat Clara stared back at me with all the knowledge I had, all the perceived wisdom and intelligence, with no voice to share. It was trapped.Just like I was.“You created this place. It’s a place of holding. A place of the unknown. Where you can be anything if you choose. You can do anything if it’s right. It’s also a prison of regrets, thoughts, and things not said. The life outside you starts to speed up and move on without you. You sit on your proverbial couch and do nothing because it’s easy. I say I don’t know because it’s easy.”“I have love in my life. I have friends. I have a family. I have things to live for. I have things to do. I don’t need to stay here.” Clara, the imposter, was nodding to every word said. She looked at me with compassion and perhaps a little pity.Standing up, I stretched big and long with my hands, trying to touch the sky.Shaking off some dust. I didn’t have any answers in this blank space. It was never meant to give me answers. It was only a place to sit and hide. But there were answers out there. Time to go find some.“This is my dream, so I’m going to end it with some style.”“Computer, End Program.”A nod to the other trekkies out there. Live long and prosper. Go find your answers. Feel free to share some of the answers you’ve already found. Sharing is life.</article></body>

My Conversation With a Devil

My hell has a decent waiting room

I dreamt I was in a waiting room.

It was muted, dull, hushed. A typical dream waiting room. I’m unsure how I knew it was a dream, but I did. So I did what people do in these places.

I sat down and waited.

I’m not sure what I was waiting for. Was it a massage therapy appointment? Those are fun to wait for. Was it a dental cleaning? Shudder. No, I'm not too fond of those. This doesn’t seem like it, either. It doesn’t seem like anything.

There’s nothing on the walls. No pictures of healthy babies. No images of perfect smiles. Devoid of any medical information. It was blank. Everything was blank.

“Hello, Clara.”

Turning my head to the voice, I saw the devil. A cartoonish devil. The one that we all grow up with, horns, red skin, pitchfork. A stereotype comes to life in front of me.

“Oh, hi. Mr. Devil. Nice to meet you.” I held out my hand to shake his clawed one.

“Oh, that’s my dad. Call me Bill.”

Blinking, I processed that. “The devil asked me to call him Bill. Wait, there is a devil in my dream. Wait, what is this place? Is this hell? Am I dead?”

“Nope. But it is like purgatory.”

I looked at him, confused. “I can’t be in purgatory. I’m not Catholic.”

Bill laughed in an awful howl that made my skin crawl. Seeing my shudder, he slowly changed before me, morphing into a mature woman who had wrinkles and had seen some life. She looked fun and kind but kind of sad too.

Bill stood, running his hands down her curvy body to settle them on the hips. “Better? Come on, we need to go!”

Whoa. Hold up! “I’m not dead. I’m not Catholic. And I’m not going anywhere with a devil! You can literally go to hell on your own.” I stood up and found myself in my living room.

It was disorienting. To go from blank walls to my comfortable and slightly messy couch. Looking around, I saw that we weren’t alone. Bill was there with me. So was my husband watching some videos and one of my kids doing her own thing on the phone, ignoring the world. I sat on the couch, blindly watching nothing.

I watched myself sit there. I watched myself do nothing. Not trying to talk with my kid. Not trying to speak with my husband. Sit there and stew about the day. Eventually, the time started to flow, and my daughter and kids flew around the living room like they were on fast-forward. My husband moved around, too, like he had sped up. Yet I stayed there, motionless on the couch.

“Look, she’s moving! Oh, thank goodness I’m finally moving!” But that joy was short-lived as I watched myself lie down on the couch from sitting.

“No, No, No…no.no. Get up! Do something! Go somewhere! Do SOMETHING with your life. Don’t just sit on the couch. Make a decision, for fucks sake.”

And then, we were back in the waiting room.

I slumped in the nearest chair. Head hanging low, I felt tears prick my eyes. A few drops fell. When I was ready, I looked to my left and saw Bill sitting next to me. He had transformed again, but this time into my own image.

“You’re me, right? The devil I have inside? The things that I struggle with are. Decisions that I haven’t made yet. All the I don’t know.”

Nodding, my copycat smiled sadly at me.

“This waiting room. This is my mind, isn’t it? It’s not real. It’s my own purgatory. It’s my prison. A room of my making. I put myself here.”

The copycat Clara stared back at me with all the knowledge I had, all the perceived wisdom and intelligence, with no voice to share. It was trapped.

Just like I was.

“You created this place. It’s a place of holding. A place of the unknown. Where you can be anything if you choose. You can do anything if it’s right. It’s also a prison of regrets, thoughts, and things not said. The life outside you starts to speed up and move on without you. You sit on your proverbial couch and do nothing because it’s easy. I say I don’t know because it’s easy.”

“I have love in my life. I have friends. I have a family. I have things to live for. I have things to do. I don’t need to stay here.” Clara, the imposter, was nodding to every word said. She looked at me with compassion and perhaps a little pity.

Standing up, I stretched big and long with my hands, trying to touch the sky.

Shaking off some dust. I didn’t have any answers in this blank space. It was never meant to give me answers. It was only a place to sit and hide. But there were answers out there. Time to go find some.

“This is my dream, so I’m going to end it with some style.”

“Computer, End Program.”

A nod to the other trekkies out there. Live long and prosper. Go find your answers. Feel free to share some of the answers you’ve already found. Sharing is life.