They came to her to tell her that she was dead--passed away peacefully in her sleep.

But," she retorted,

”this cannot be so-I’m not dead--just perhaps I am dreaming this and still asleep."

“No”, they said, “dead you are-nothing to be done; acceptance not denial is what is appropriate here.”

She felt her arms and said “See I am alive, still here.”

“Illusion.” they said The dead always think they are still alive because death came so suddenly-- in your case while you were still asleep.”

”This is absurd;” she said “let me out of here. I can prove I am alive, let me out of here.”

"There is nothing to stop you," he said “you can always leave.”

She got up and walked to what looked like a door pausing and gingerly opening it onto a blinding light, so blinding she shut it again turning to face to her interlocutors-shaken.

"What is going on here" Where am I?” she said.

They ignored her whispering among themselves finally facing her, one of them saying;

“Sometimes we can give special dispensation and perhaps...”

She interrupted him, “Special dispensation, what is that?”

“Well” he said “you can go, leave here if you like, but only for three days and if…”

If, if what.” she said.

“in those two days you can walk among the living but they will not be able to see or hear you and if you can somehow communicate with them, make your self feel alive to them and they want you to come back, then you can perhaps go back, come back among the living, That will be permanent until you die again, understanding, of course, that we all die in time."

Convince them? How can I do that if they cannot see or hear me?

“Well you can go among them,” one of them explained  "and even though they will not be able to see or hear you, your spirit will be present and if that triggers among them a desire for your return, then that might make your return possible.”

“Not see or hear me,” she said “but how then will I be able to convince them I am alive? This makes no sense.”

“Oh yes it does. You have to get them to conjure you in their memories, wish you were still alive, remember you fondly, wish you were still with them after all this time.”

“All this time?”, she said.

How long have I been dead?”

“Well it has been over seven years now.” they said.

“Seven years!” she said incredulously. “Seven years.”

“Yes seven years.” he said.

“I know people forget, even loved ones can forget you after seven years, and they go on with their lives.”

“Yes, our point exactly,” he said, “then you are not only dead but forgotten, and means your death is final.”

Do you want to go, go back understanding that if you fail, your death will then be final?”

She paused thinking how hurtful it would be if she could not get anyone to remember her.

“What happens” she said “if I succeed and some one remembers me and wants me back?”

“That is the point someone can remember you but may not want you back. That part is important.”

“And,” he said “you may not want to go back. If you do go back there might be loved ones who have moved on with their lives.”
.

“What about my husband, has he moved on?” she said?

They did not answer.

“We can tell you nothing. These things you will have to find out for yourself.

Some,” he said “find out and want to come back here. Each is different-take your time.
She stood thinking about what to do.

To be continued