Out Of Body

Spiritually Floating

For two glorious minutes my brain let me float out of my body

It was wonderful. And so unexpected.

I knew that a dead brain would let you go. I had read all about that, and that stood to reason, too, of course — dead fingers cannot grip. And I had experienced that a live one would not, under any circumstances do any such thing. Meat-Prison I thought. That’s what the brain is, a convoluted must-keep-you-inside Prison. That’s what I thought.

What I didn’t know (but had off and on hoped) was that a dormant brain, at next-door-to-death rest, would also loosen its grip on you sufficiently to let you float up and out. Mine did. And I did. Float up and out.

Unexpectedly.

For two glorious minutes.

Then the brain stirred from its slumber and thought “enough of that”, and back in I went — vacuumed, as it were.

Still, it was a brilliant two minutes. Glorious.

I had to tell Sam about this. Sam is my flatmate. We are unlike. He is of the “both feet on the ground” variety. Not the brightest candle in the box, perhaps, but both kind and neat, and by “neat” I mean he cleans his room and his share of the communal parts, bathroom and kitchen and such. And, he pays his share of the rent every month, regular as clockwork — on the day before the last of the month, morning of.

He was heading out (to the pub was my guess) but I caught him in the hallway — and by “kind” I guess I mean that he would take the time to listen to a flatmate, even if in the middle of heading for elsewhere, this very case in point.

“I left my body this morning,” I said.

“Huh?”

“The brain let me out. I floated right out and up and into air.”

“Oh, my.”

“And it was glorious.”

“Really?” He frowned. Maybe people were waiting for him at the pub. Maybe he had a date. Then said: “You realize, I hope, that this was just your brain playing tricks with you. It’s been explained.”

He was still underway, as it were. Not settling for a long discussion. Still not impatient — another kind of kind.

“Explained, what?”

“Such things, out-of-body things. All orchestrated by the brain.”

“Not possible,” I said. “My brain was asleep. Dormant.”

“The brain is never asleep or dormant.”

“Mine was. And it let me out.”

“The brain is very clever that way. Produces amazing illusions.”

“It was no illusion, Sam. It was real. Very real.”

“Yes, your very real brain playing a very real trick on a very fooled fellow.”

“And what research do you base that on?” I wondered, not without cheek.

“Just common sense,” he said. “Common bloody sense.” He smiled.

“Well,” I said. “You mean the same common sense that tells us that the sun circles the Earth?”

“It doesn’t?”

© Wolfstuff

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