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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o  	The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of  o
o  stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the  o
o  world.  Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups).   There is no  o
o  particular  order  other than offering them to you in  alpha-  o
o  betical directories.                                           o
o  	I don't believe in categorizing things. "I don't want to  o
o  be typed therefore I don't type things myself."  I think it's  o
o  a lot more fun to browse around and find  'little'  surprises  o
o  that you might not have even thought of looking for.           o
o   	Lest we forget!!!   This story was produced as adult en-  o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors.   Kristen         o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Ghost - The Long Goodbye (MF, fantasy)
by Onn Goh

*

	A Fantasy.... I think.
	Some experiences were drawn from true-life. Others were
the product of an over-active imagination with no life :) All 
characters depicted in the story are fictitious, and any resemblences
to persons living, dead, or comatose are purely coincidental.
	Any comments, compliments, or complaints may be directed to
ogoh@sfu.ca.
	The author makes no guarantee that the story will satisfy 
you. THAT is entirely in your HANDS :)


	GHOST: The Long Goodbye.

     It all began with the accident. I had swerved to avoid an
on-coming car, ran off the road, yanked on the wheel to get back
onto the road (big mistake), went into spin and smashed into one,
then another post. I lost consciousness then.

     When next I was aware, the darkness had been replaced by
light, very bright lights. I could hear voices, urgent, but not
frantic. I looked to see who these voices belonged to, and saw a
group of five, maybe six people gathered about something. I
couldn't see what they were doing nor make out what they were
saying. I was still feeling lightheaded and disoriented and the
whole scene seemed almost dreamy. Nevertheless, it felt important
that I know what these people were doing and somehow, despite my
disorientation, I managed to move in for a closer look.

     I didn't know what I expected, but I certainly didn't expect
to see myself lying on an emergency room table with doctors and
nurses all around. There was an oxygen mask of some sort over my
nose and mouth and tubes in my arms, nose, mouth. I also noticed
a bloody spot on my left temple. For a moment, an image of a huge
telephone pole slamming into the side of my car flashed through
my memory, and I sort of recall smashing my head into the side of
the car.

     The image cleared and I was seeing myself, my body, lying
there with all those tubes and needles. I didn't look very
comfortable. But I didn't feel any of it.

     So. This is death, I thought. Or close to it.

     Just as well. I really had nothing to live for. 

     So... where's the tunnel, bright lights, and long-dead
relatives who are supposed to great me? I had never believed in
those near death experiences of those people reported in the
supermarket tabloids, but they were remarkably consistent about
some of the details. I looked around. Nope. No tunnels, bright
lights or dead relatives. I realised that I was floating quite
close to the ceiling. Could I go through it?

     Yep. It felt strange, or maybe it was my imagination. But
there I was, my head (non-corporeal) sticking out of the floor of
the next level of this hospital, while the rest of my body was
still in the floor below. From my position, I couldn't really see
anything so I decided to go all the way up. I don't quite know
how I move... I just do.

     There was a bed here with curtains drawn around it. Curious,
I looked in. There was a middle-aged woman, slightly overweight
lying on her side while a young nurse gave her a sponge bath. She
was naked from the waist up and I could see a fresh surgical scar
on her abdomen.

     The nurse was gently sponging her back as I moved around to
get a better look. She was beautiful. She wore little or no
make-up, or at least none that I could see. Her short, dark brown
hair was neat and practical. Here nurse's uniform hugged her
figure and showed curves where curves should be. The cut of her
uniform seemed to emphasize her breasts.

     But it was her face that held my attention. 

     Rachel!

     For some reason, she reminded me of Rachel. And with the
memories came the pain. No! I should not be able to feel the
pain. I'm dead! Dead! I'm beyond pain!

     But it was there. The pain I had tried to bury and forget
came flooding back. I had lost her even before I ever really had
her. It hurt then, but I couldn't believe it still hurts after
all these months. 

     And suddenly, I knew what I wanted to do. I just hope I have
the time to do it before the whole tunnel and lights scene
starts.

     I'm going to say good-bye to Rachel.

     I left through the window. Literally. It was a cool summer
night, but I didn't feel it. I hovered outside the hospital for a
moment to get my bearings. Then I set off.

     It was a beautiful night. The heat of the day beginning to
dissipate, but I didn't feel it. The cityscape at night was
beautiful. But I didn't see it. The almost full moon in a
star-studded night sky must have been a rare sight but I missed
it. 

     I was wondering how I might say good-bye.

     I don't know how long it took me to get to Rachel's
apartment. I didn't exactly travel in a straight line. "Flying"
is quite different from driving and I made several course
corrections as I passed familiar landmarks. But it didn't seem to
me to take very long. It would have been at least a 45 minute
drive. But perhaps becasue of grief, or perhaps because time has
little meaning for someone in my state, it didn't seem that long.

     I counted the windows and found Rachel's. I flew right in.
And flew right out again.

     She was in there with someone! I couldn't see who he was,
but the tangle of arms and legs, half-undone clothes pulled and
twisted aside to allow access to various body parts was
unmistakably that of a couple making out, or in the early stages
of foreplay.

     What do I do now? I couldn't go in and watched. It would
hurt too much to see the woman I love share a very intimate part
of her life with someone else while I WATCHED! I know she does,
but knowing it intellectually and watching and knowing from
experience is a big difference. So what do I do? 

     I couldn't wait till they were done... I may have to go any
minute now. What do I DO?

     I have to say good-bye. She was the only meaningful part of
my life. She was my life. No matter how much it hurts now, I will
hurt an eternity if I left without saying good-bye. 

     So, taking a deep breath (metaphorically), I floated closer
to the apartment window. The curtains were drawn, so I had to
push my head through. They were on the couch. In front of the
couch, the TV was playing an old episode of "Cheers". The room
was lit by a single lamp at the end of the couch. I went all the
way in, until I could look at her face. She was on her back, the
guy was busy with her breast or something. I was trying to ignore
him. I just looked into Rachel's face.

     Her eyes were closed. Her lips were half parted, enough for
me to see those even white teeth and a little bit of her tongue
peeking between the two rows of teeth. As I watched, her tongue
flicked out to lick her lips before returning to the half-parted
position. Her nostrils were flared and her breath came in deep
gasps. Her long hair was splayed about her face. 

     "Rachel, I came to say good-bye," I began. "I -- I want to
thank you for the small part of your life that you shared with
me. It may be a small part of your life, but it meant the world
to me."

     "Uuhhhmmm, " she moaned.

     "I will always remember the night we first kissed. I was so
mervous, it was such a clumsy kiss, but you said afterwards that
you liked it."

     "Yes! Oh, yes!" she gasped.

     "I have never met anyone like you; so sure of what you want.
I can almost feel your body against mine like the night we danced
that slow dance. I still remember how you pressed your body into
mine and how I held you tight, afraid to let go, because I guess
even then, I knew I did not deserve you."

     "Huh! Huh! Huh!" she breathed.

     "And when you felt me holding you tight, you began to move
against my body. I still feel your thighs rubbing against mine,
my cock hard against your belly, your hands on my ass keeping the
pressure on. As I ran my hands along the crack of your ass, you
squirmed against my body."

     "Ooooohhhh!" she moaned.

     "And then we kissed. I tilted your head to face mine, and
lowered my lips onto yours. You closed your eyes then, as you are
doing now. Your lips were parted then, as they are now. And then
we kissed. A slow, gentle kiss that turned more and more
passionate."

     "Hhhmmmmm," she sighed.

     I didn't realised it but I had moved forward until now, my
face was very close to hers. I somehow knew that I couldn't kiss
her, but I still tried. I leaned forward, and lowered my lips
onto hers...

     And felt nothing. I couldn't kiss her good-bye. I gazed into
her face from that nothing distance and wanted to cry. So
close... and I might have been a hundred miles away for all the
good it did me.

     Suddenly I regretted coming.

     And just as suddenly, I could feel her lips! And she was
kissing me!

     No! Not me! The guy had moved up again to kiss her, and for
the brief moment when our faces shared the same space, I had felt
what he felt!

     He was kissing her on the neck now. I moved my face there
and merged into his. Immediately, my senses were filled with the
scent and person of Rachel. I could smell her perfume, the scent
of her shampoo on her hair, and more. Senses which I had not had
for a while (since my death) were suddenly back again and that
brief sensory deprivation had sharpened my senses and my
appreciation of them. The scent of Rachel, the taste of Rachel,
the feel of Rachel were all so incredibly alive!

     Glorious! I had never felt so alive! I wanted to laugh. And
just a moment ago I had wanted to cry. The turnaround was so
sudden, it left me confused for a moment.

     The guy's face was still buried in Rachel's neck, but he was
moving down. I wanted a kiss. Kiss her! On the lips! I thought at
him. Whether he "heard" me or had intended to do so of his own
accord, he returned to her lips.

     We began gently. Barely touching at first, then steadily
more pressure, our lips met. Occasionally, Rachel would dart her
tongue between his/my lips, sending a wave of pleasure and
sensation, but all he/I did was clasped her lips with his/mine. I
wanted to taste her. Somehow I managed to take over. don't ask me
how, I just did it. I pried her willing lips open (did she sigh?)
with my/his tongue. My/his tongue darted in between her teeth,
did the tango with hers, then withdrew for a while. I tickled the
inside of the upper lip with my/his tongue, while I move my/his
arms around her. Then when I was ready, I pulled her closer as I
dove into her mouth. (Did her eyes pop open?) I ran my/his tongue
behind the back of her upper teeth, trying to tickle the roof of
her mouth, and also the insides of her cheeks.

     I saw then that my move had surprised her; her eyes were
opened. (Was there a glint of recognition in her eyes?)

     I closed my eyes now, giving myself to the sensations that
were flooding through me. Rachel's tongue was now invading my
mouth. I surrendered to her persistence and enjoyed it.

     When we finally broke the kiss, my hands which had been
caressing and playing with her breasts under her t-shirt, gripped
the t-shirt and pulled it over her head. She raised herself above
the couch and lifted her arms to help me with that. She had
beautifully proportioned breasts, large for her size without
making her seem top-heavy. They were firm, yet soft to the touch,
peaked by rubbery-hard nipples rash-red from the efforts and play
of my hands. Her bra had been pushed up into a mess above them
and I didn't like that. I reached behind to unsnap it but had no
idea what I was doing. So, she helped me.

     Then she helped me with my shirt.

     When we were both naked from the waist up, I kissed her lips
briefly before moving onto her chin, her neck, then her breast,
before locking onto her nipple. She gave a shudder and arched her
body toward me, driving her breast as deep into my mouth as she
could. On my part, I tried to take all that she was offering into
my mouth and lips. My mouth was wide opened, the corners so
stretched they hurt. My lips massaged the breast while my tongue
lashed the nipple trapped within.

     She gasped and moaned while her arms pulled me closer into
that pleasure mound.

     I alternate between left and right breasts a couple of times
before I returned to her lips and asked her to unzip my jeans.
This she did, while I was getting her belt off. I was unzipping
her jeans when she grabbed my cock. Or rather his/my cock. And
suddenly I remembered I was in a borrowed body. 

     "No," I murmured.

     "W-What?" she asked.

     I pulled her hand from inside my briefs and demonstrated how
I wanted her to rub my/his cock through the briefs. I was rubbing
her cunt through her panties, too. It was feeling rather wet. I
wanted very much to fuck her, but not with someone else's body.
Who would be making love to her? He or I? Who would she be making
love to? Him or me? She would have shared another part of her
life with me, and it would mean a lot to me. But this time, she
wouldn't even know it was me. 

     And suddenly, the whole situation depressed and angered me.

     Worst of all, I took out my frustrations on Rachel.

     I got up off her and pulled her to her feet rather roughly.
She complied, almost meekly, and for some reason, that angered me
even more. She was facing me as I pulled down my jeans and briefs
all in one move. She started to remove hers, but I stopped her
and turned her around so that her back was to me.

     My strange behaviour must have been disconcerting if not
outright frightening to her, but she made no protests or
complaints. Again, for some perverse reason, that only angered me
more.

     This borrowed body was about my height which means Rachel
only came up to my chin. She was small. I grabbed the back of her
jeans and pulled her towards me. Pulling open the top of the
jeans and her panties, I stuck my cock inside, against the crack
of her ass.

     Then I pulled her arms behind her and me. I placed a couple
of fingers of each of her hands in the crack of my ass and then
tensed my butt muscles. Her hands were caught there. It was not a
very secure hold and if she really wanted to pull her hands out,
she could have, but she played along. And I got angrier.

     Now I slid my right hand into her panties and felt the soft
down of her pubic hair. Further down, I felt the heated wetness,
and the slit of her sex. I began to rub a finger or two along the
slit, slowly insinuating my fingers in, a little deeper each
time.

     My left hand played with her breasts awhile before I reached
up and tilted her head to the right, exposing her left ear. If I
remember, her ears are very sensitive. I leaned in to nuzzle,
kiss, lick and nibble her ear. She went wild!

     The combination of my fingers in her cunt and my tongue in
her ear drove her to try to escape from the exquisite torture.
She wanted to go back and up to escape my hand. This put her ear
closer to my tongue, so she tries to go down -- into my hand. All
the while, the up and down movement is translated by my cock into
pleasurable sensations.

     The movement became more frantic and her jeans began to
slide down her legs, as much from her movements as from my own
efforts as my cock tried to slide down deeper along the crack of
her ass. Mindlessly, my cock was searching for her cunt. 

     Between my cock and my right hand, I managed to pull her
panties to her mid-thighs. My cock was now between her legs and I
was beginning to lose control. Any time now I knew I was going to
be unable to stop myself from fucking her and I did not want to
do that; not in another person's body. I could see my cock
peeking out from between her legs which was squeezing open and
close. It was too much. Fortunately she came to my aid. I had
leaned forward a little and the tension in my butt was broken for
a while. Her hands loose, she brought them around to grab the
shaft of my cock. 

     She came then, I think.

     Then she started pounding away on my cock. I lost touch with
her ear, unable to concentrate. It was all I could do the keep my
fingers in her cunt moving. The pressure behind my cock had been
building for some time now and it was going to be uncontainable
soon.

     At the last moment I pulled my hand out of her cunt and grab
her hands on my cock to hold them still. I held the pressure and
for a while I thought I might just be able to keep from going
over. But no.

     Once.

     Twice.

     And another spurt. A shudder and we collapsed to the floor.

     I disengaged from the body and floated free.

     Good-bye, Rachel. I love you. 


********

     As I drifted out into the night, a deep sorrow took hold of
me. 

     Regrets. Regrets. Regrets.

     I had that one chance to make love to Rachel, one chance to
know her love and I had turned it aside. Why?

     So what if it was a borrowed body? What difference does it
make? It's still she and I. Why? Why? Why?

     Because it makes all the difference in the world. I want her
to know it is me. I want her to choose me. Any other way would be
meaningless. That way would have been rape. That way would have
been stealing. That way makes no difference in the way she sees
me.

     And perhaps that was why I was angry. I was angry with me,
not with her. I was stealing another's experience. It was what
she was going to share with him, not me, but I took it anyway.
And when she went along with my game, I got angrier each time
because it was not my game as she saw it, but his game she was
going along with. I was jealous. Jealous that someone else had
her trust, her intimacy, that private side of her. And everything
she had shared with me, was meant to be shared with him. I had
taken what I had no right to take.

     Oh Rachel! Will you ever forgive me?

     How can she? She doesn't even know!

     Take me away from this place! I can't stand being here
anymore. Take me! Now!

     Silence. No tunnel. No bright lights. No dead relatives.

     Even the dead doesn't want me.

     I looked up. Tonight was a clear night. Not a cloud. No
smog, dust or any thing to mar the starfield. It was beautiful. A
beautiful night with no one to share it with. I decided to head
upwards. To the stars. I could feel myself rising. But the stars
got no closer. I aimed for the nearly full moon. It didn't get
any bigger or closer.

     I looked down and noticed that I had not risen very much
higher than when I started. And the hospital where I had died was
close by. I had not intended to return to the hospital, so I must
have been drawn here. Perhaps I need to be close to my body when
the whole tunnel and light show begins. 

     I drifted into the hospital through a second floor window..
It was quite late now and the corridors were quiet and the lights
dimmed. Patients were sleeping in their beds. There were some
snoring, but mostly it was quiet. I wonder where they had put my
body. Well, I've lots of time to look around. 

     I had wandered for what seemed like hours, through the
wards, nurses stations, doctors office, a couple of
pharmaceutical stores, a kitchen, and even a few broom closets of
sorts. Then I drifted through a wall and heard heavy breathing. 

     I looked around the semi-darkness and figured it was some
kind of linen store. The heavy breathing was coming from the far
side of the room. I moved in for a closer look and found a couple
locked in a passionate embrace. The man was probably in his late
twenties, youngish. From his coat and such, he was probably a
houseman or an intern of some sort to have to pull the graveyard
shift. He was quite slim, with just a bit of fat on the waist.
But over all, I'd say he looked to be in better shape than me, at
least, me as in my body. In this state, I didn't really have a
body.

     But I quickly shifted my attention to the woman. It was the
nurse that had reminded me of Rachel.

     She had a gorgeous body, much like Rachel's. Her breasts
might be slightly bigger, but not by much. Her face was contorted
with ecstasy and a high keening whine was coming out from behind
her clenched teeth. The whine, more like a moan, would be
interupted by a series of sharp gasps as she took in more air.
The source of her excitement was the young intern at her breasts.
He was doing great things to her.

     And she seemed to enjoy it immensely. She had her arms
wrapped around him as though she wouldn't let him leave her
breasts. I envied her just as I envied Rachel (and all women for
that matter) for having such responsive bodies with so many
sensitive spots.

     Then I thought of something. 

     I moved into the nurse's body, slowly settling my spirit
self into her form. And immediately I was flooded with so much
sensations I gasped, in unison with the nurse. The incredible,
exquisite sensory overload was sweet, sweet agony until I was
able to sort them out. The fiery gnawing on her/my right breast
was the young intern nibbling, nipping, licking, sucking, teasing
and pinching her/my right nipple. Even as I became aware of the
individual actions, the intern started nibbling on the breast and
nipple again. He caught her/my nipple between his teeth and
threatened it with a slight pressure of his teeth.

     The mix of fear and desire was incredible. I wanted him to
take me, to control me, and at the same time I was afraid he
would.
     
     He released the nipple and began to lick and suck. Of their
own volition, her/my arms pulled him in close. I could not
believe how hot a human mouth could be until I had experienced
that nurse's breast in that young intern's mouth.

     He moved over to the other breast and the furnace of his
mouth covered the rigid nipple. His hot, wet tongue teased the
sensitive teat together with teeth, and lips, sending wave after
wave of sensations; fear and desire, pain and pleasure. As I
looked down at this man worshipping me and tormenting me at the
same time I felt an incredible rush of love feelings for him. And
tenderly, I caressed his hair.

     As if that was the signal he wanted, he left the breasts and
moved his face down, making a trail of kisses as he went along.
Each kiss sent a shiver through me, so intimate was his kiss of
lips and tongue. Finally, he reached the bush that was her/my
cunt. He froze there for a moment and for a moment I was afraid
he would stop there and at the same time I was afraid he would go
on. 

     Then he looked up, as though making sure I was watching,
making sure I knew what he intended, what was in it for me. Then
he plunged into the crevasse of her/my cunt. If his tongue had
been an aggravating torment of pleasure, it now became maddening
in its intensity. He began with the area surrounding her/my
clitoris which sent rippling waves of paralysing ecstasy through
her/my body. He kept that up for a while, then he completely
encircled her/my clit with his lips and the threat and the
promise both collided within my mind and drove me out of it. 

     The wet heat surrounding her/my clit turned her/my legs to
jelly, only a little more substantial than the lubricating fluids
that was now seeping out of her/my cunt. Her/my feet were
beginning to tingle.

     And then he stabbed her/my little clit with his tongue which
sent her/my body into an epileptic pleasure fit. Her/my body
shook uncontrollably as he lashed and licked and suck on her/my
little button of pleasure. 

     The tingle that had started at the sole of her/my feet had
spread up the legs, and had began to settle in the pit of her/my
stomach. It became an urge to do something. I don't know what.
Then, a steadily building pressure. She/I started to breathe
faster and in short gasps. Her/my hips were bucking wildly,
trying to grind her/my clit and cunt into his mouth, even as
her/my thighs wanted to clamp his head there. Her/my bucking got
wilder as his tongue flickered faster and faster and her/my clit
grew harder and hotter, and the pressure grew stronger and
stronger until finally... release!

     She came! I came! He kept licking!

     She came! I came! He kept licking!

     She/I came!

     She/I collapsed from the exertion of that triple climax. No
strength to do anything except to gasp for air.

     But the young intern was not done yet. Pulling down his
trousers and briefs, he knelt in between her/my spread apart
legs. His stiff cock fully engorged, he leaned forward. She/I
reached for it and grasped it to help him get it in. It slipped
in easily enough and she/I had this sensation of being filled. At
the same time the pressure and pleasure from the invasion of
her/my body was rippling through her/my sensitized body. Somehow,
her/my legs had regained enough strength to lock themselves
around his waist. 

     The we began the age-old rhythm of the recreation of life.

     He began slowly and she/I followed his rhythm. Each thrust
of his cock seemed to be building up some of the pressure that
was released in the orgasms. Slowly, steadily he picked up the
rhythm and she/I matched it. Finally he was like a frenzied
bronco as he plunged faster and faster into her/my cunt, and
then, he thrust deep, held it there and came.

     But she/I hadn't come, so turning over with him still
inside, she/I rode on his still stiff prick until she/I came one
more time.

     As I lay there for a while, I looked at the young intern and
couldn't help feeling sorry for him as he only came one time. A
woman's body is incredibly sensitive and sensuous. I love it. The
warmth glow of aftersex was still in her body and it felt good. I
didn't want to leave this body yet. It had so much to offer. And
the best part was I wasn't even in control. I was just along for
the ride, and enjoying it. 

     After a while, we got up, cleaned ourselves up with a few
pieces of linen, and dressed up. We exchanged kisses and left the
room separately. 

     The warm glow remained for a long time and I just stayed in
the body, enjoying it. I had no place to go and all the time in
the world to get there. If someone wants to get me across into
the world of the dead, they'll have to look for me. I'm tired of
waiting for them.

     Then about dawn, I overheard some talk regarding me, or
rather my body. 

     "Has the next-of-kin of the accident victim been contacted?"

     "We tried his home number, but apparently he lives alone.
Maybe his office might have more information. We'll try the
office number later when it's open."

     I have no kin here in this city. You'll just be wasting your
time. But... there is someone I wanted them to notify. I've said
my good-bye to Rachel, but if she doesn't know I'm gone, it would
mean nothing. Did I still mean anything to her. I wanted to know
that. I needed to know.

     We were close once, maybe still. If there's anyone I would
call friend, it's her. I would like for her to say good-bye to
me. My good-bye to her means little if she doesn't know I am
gone.

     Yes. That's it.

     I took over the nurse's body now.

     I went to a phone and called Rachel. She picked up the phone
after seven rings and sounded like she had been awakened from
sleep.

     "Hello. Is this Rachel?" I asked.

     "Uh-huh," she murmured.

     "I'm sorry to disturb you so early in the morning. I'm
calling from Memorial Hospital and we have a patient brought in
late last night and we have been trying to find his next-of-kin.
Anyway, we found your name and number in his wallet and wondered
if you could help identify him."

     "Who is it?" asked Rachel, sounding much more awake now and
a little worried.

     I gave her my name.

     "Yes, yes. I know him. What happened?"

     "I can't give you all the details over the phone. Could you
come down to verify his identity and perhaps help us to contact
his next-of-kin?"

     "Yes, yes. I'll be right over."

     She's coming.

     It took her almost two hours to get to the hospital. Blame
it on morning rush hour.

     I had left the nurse's body and was waiting at the reception
desk when she walked in. She looked lovely. She enquired at the
reception desk, and was referred to a doctor who brought her to
the room where my body lay.

     I was not dead!

     As the doctor briefed her on my condition, I looked at
myself. I was breathing regularly without aid. Most of the tubes
and needles were gone except for one intra-venous drip. A
slightly bloodstained bandage was on my left temple. Other than
that, I looked not too bad.

     "He was brought in unconscious and haven't come out of the
coma at all. It's all very strange. His brain scan shows
abnormally high activity, but no consciousness. We don't know how
long he will be like this. He might wake the next minute or not
for months." 

     The doctor now left us alone. Rachel took the seat beside
the bed and look into my face. The face on my body anyway. I was
staring at hers. She touched my hand, then my face. I wish I
could feel it, but later. I wanted to listen to her. 

     "Hi," she said. 

     "Hello," I said, but of course she can't hear me.

     "It's been some time since we last saw each other."

     "Yes it has," I said, softly.

     "I've been busy," she said. "Working at my new job, making
new friends." She paused for a moment, then, "but I haven't
forgotten my old friends. I still think of you now and then."

     "Why, just last night I thought of you," she said with a
nervous laugh. "It's kinda strange, but there's this guy and some
of the things he did, well, reminded me of you."

     So you did noticed.

     "It was kinda scary too," she continued. "I can't explain
really. It was like you WERE there; like it was you I was..." she
stopped, embarrassed.

     "Maybe it was you." She was holding my hand now. Was that
shimmering in her eyes, tears? "Maybe it was you reaching out to
me."

     "Yes, it was," I said. "And I'm still here, still reaching
out to you." I merged may spirit hand with the real hand in hers.
I could feel her again. The soft palms, the delicate yet strong
fingers. She tensed suddenly, the grip tightening. (Did she feel
my presence?)

     She raised my hand to her lips and gently kissed the back.
Her lips lingered for a while, a tear formed in her right eye. I
watched as the tear rolled down and touch my finger held there
against her cheek. It felt hot.

     She sniffed, gathered herself, and wiped away the tear.

     "I've got to go," she said.

     Then she leaned over my bed and kissed me on the lips. Then.
she turned and walked away.

     "Rachel, don't go," I said.

     She stopped. (Could she have heard me?)

     Then I realised I was back in my body! She did hear me! I
did speak.

     She turned and I could see her face again. She was
beautiful. Her eyes seemed to shine with an inner light. She
whispered softly, "Hi."

     "I missed you," I managed to say, then I felt incredibly
weary and my eyes started to go unfocused. Rachel dissolved into
the gathering darkness, her face blurring. I struggled to hang
onto life, to consciousness.

     I tried to leave the body, but I couldn't. It began to get
darker, I could still make out Rachel's silhoutte as she dashed
forward. (Was there fear on her face?). I started to panic! No! I
don't want die now! I have something to live for now!

     Nooooo!
