I Want To Help

(Within the reader’s mind)

Period

Point

Dot

Thought

Not

No

Go

Show

Tell

Spell

Well

Well . . .

Well what?

Well . . .

There’s gotta be something

Anything . . . something . . . nothing . . . someone

Yeah, there was a someone.

They had a name – what was that name . . .

I can’t think.

Think?

Pink

Plink

Drink

Brink

The brink – the brink of what?

. . .

There was a someone. What was their name?

Who were they?

Was it just me?

.

.

.

Wait, who is me.

Just . . .

Jess.

Oh! Oh! That’s my name!

And, hold on, there was that guy

Th-the other one.

Shoot, what was his name . . .

Weirdo

W-w-w

Wal-

No

Wizard

Nuh-uh

.

.

.

The author sighs

WHOA! Hold on-

The author starts

The author’s eyes fly open

Stop! Just stop – I need to-

The author begins hyperventilating

The author stops breathing

The author blinks

The author lets out a slow stream of breath

OK, this is nuts

Hello! I am not the author!

That’s the other fellow

Weirdo Wizard, what’s-his-name . . .

~ ~ ~

“William?” calls a low voice.

I start and look around me.

Then think, Gotta stop moving – this is crazy.

“Yeah, I think so!” I call, straining to see through the darkness around me.

Hold on, though, I think, if I can see through darkness, then . . .

I narrow my eyes, and stretching my thoughts outward

Push the darkness away.

“You learn fast,” the voice comments.

“Who are you?” I call, shaking my head again at the weird format.

Focus, focus, I think, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

“I am William,” the voice replies, “And you are Jess. This is the Inbetween, and we are both authors now.”

Authors – inbetween – William – authors . . . I think, Ugh.

I take a slow step forward through the murky grayness.

“What do you mean?” I call, then think twice, “As in – what do you mean by ‘the Inbetween’ and ‘authors’?”

Not that I remember much, I mentally grumble.

You know what, this is actually kinda fun. What if I-

“It won’t be fun long,” the voice calls, it’s tone heavy and sad, “The glamor fades, and all you’re left with is a bundle of brains, words and ideas where everything goes into something that just turns into nothing in the end.”

I blink.

“Ookay – first, I totally didn’t get that. And second, are you reading my mind?”

“No,” William replies.

“Why can’t I see you?”

“Because you are not really looking.”

Uh, yeah I am, I think with an eye-roll.

“No, you are not,” William says, “You must look with your thoughts.”

“You realize how little sense that makes?” I call, losing patience.

Gaining patience.

Ahhh, yes, gained patience, I think with a Cheshire smile, This makes life easier-

“Not for long,” William interjects once again.

“Are you going to answer my question?” I ask.

“I don’t have to.”

.

.

.

But you’re going to, right? I think.

“Perhaps, but you do not seem very open to instruction at the moment.”

What is this place?

“The Inbetween.”

Where is the Inbetween?

“It is between life and the end of death.”

What do you mean by the ‘end of death’?

“Death comes in two parts: the transition out of life into the Vale and the transition from the Vale into what most people term ‘the afterlife’. The Inbetween is between these two transitions and, for most, it happens in less time than a thought.”

And for others? Like, I swallow, Us?

“For others, it is a place of eternal bondage where the former life can be influenced through the writing of stories and the afterlife can only be either longed for or feared.”

Wow, O-K, I think, taking another deep breath, But how did I get here?

.

.

.

“I do not know.”

“Hold on,” I say, “How can you not know?”

A pause, and a low sigh from William’s direction.

“We should not be speaking.”

And?

“The very fact that we are communicating through your book disproves all that I thought I knew. I think I know how it happened, but why? . . . No - no I don’t know.”

You realize this is only getting more and more confusing? I think, rubbing my temple.

“I do.”

Care to give me the whole dish?

“I think it would be better if we transitioned for that.”

“Transitioned,” I question, taking a tentative step back, “What does tha-”

~ ~ ~

(This Book is NOT Worth Reading)

Transitioned, as in you have returned to reading my book

William’s book.

Whew, you sigh, Being an author has more control, but it is super weird.

Yes. Enough to drive one insane before long

.

.

.

So, the explanation?

Certainly.

~ ~ ~

Through the still gray atmosphere you walk, going as straight ahead as you can. After a moment, a tall figure appears beside you.

“This way,” William says softly before striding off into the mist.

You jog quickly to catch up.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“You’ll see,” William replies.

You huff, but keep moving. While stubborn enough to want to resist until you get a straight answer, you are also desperate enough to forgo being obstinate.

This time, you think.

I applaud your consistency.

“Moments tick by,” you murmur mysteriously, “As the adventurer and the annoying author make their way into the bowels of the Inbetween,”

“You will have to improve your grammar,” William notes.

“For what?” you retort.

“For your book,” he replies.

“Yeah, about that,” you begin, “First – how did that happen? And second – why were you reading it? I mean, I sorta assume that since you’re the only person around-”

“Books,” William interrupts, “Are generally read by people in the World, not authors from the Inbetween.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m asking,” you say, “If it’s usually someone from Earth, why are – were – you reading my story?”

“We will discuss that later,” William says, “First, you must learn the foundations of this reality.”

“And how long will that take?” you ask hesitantly.

“We’re here,” he says, stopping so abruptly that you nearly run into him.

Or you do run into him and bounce off.

The question is which would be funnier?

You stumbling like a hog-tied chicken

Or you flying back like a double-snapped rubber band?

And the annoying snark returns, you mentally grumble.

Something I have a very hard time helping . . .

You roll your eyes and look around you.

“Wait a sec,” you say, doing a 360⁰ as you peer into the surrounding grayness.

“Where is here?”