By Simon Funk
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Extra resources for After Life - Novella
I found I had little of actual substance to enlighten her with, though, since I continue to be mostly in the dark myself. She didn’t believe much of what I said at first, particularly about me, about what I am, or at least what I think I am. But after a few demonstrations of superhuman strength, and a somewhat comical scene involving me dunking my head in a bucket of water for about five minutes while holding off her flailing attempts to make me stop, I think she finally accepts that there’s something just a wee odd about me.
Okay, I’m not too serious here. I hope. is unimaginable. I mean, I am here right now, experiencing it directly, and still I have a hard time accepting that the horizon in all directions is a painting, that the sky itself is—I don’t know what—the underside of Los Angeles, painted blue? And the city is huge. Not on the scale of Los Angeles, not even close, but the biggest indoor city-like casino in Vegas is just a tee-pee by comparison. I guess that’s the best analogy, impressive in the same way, just on a much grander scale.
At first I thought the wall was somehow tuned to sense me. But that didn’t explain why I had fallen through just a minute ago. Finally with a few more experiments, specifically getting myself into orientations where I was absolutely physically dependent on the wall holding me up, I determined the wall was, in fact, entirely in my mind. This was, to say the least, disconcerting. As if I don’t have enough doubts about what’s real and what’s not already. I practiced falling through the wall forward a few times but couldn’t eliminate the sensation of smacking my face on it.