At 19:52 6/22/2001, Mark MacKinnon wrote:

     The lights inside the room remained on, flickering
unsteadily.  The chair that Ami had vacated rocked in a jerky
pendulum motion, slowly shuddering to a halt.  The screen
flickered, gibberish characters filling it for a moment.  Then it
cleared.

     TOMMY?  DON'T GO TOMMY DON'T GO AWAY
AGAIN AND LEAVE ME ALONE TOMMY TOMMY PLEASE

     A rustle of robes filled the air, and a lithe young woman
with long blonde hair and a gleaming pattern of blue lines on one
cheek brushed her hand across the screen.
     "You aren't alone any longer, little sister," the girl said with
a sad smile.

     TOMMY?

     "No.  Not Tommy."

     HELP ME PLEASE IT'S DARK AND I CAN'T I CAN'T
THE EYE IT'S THE EYE I FEEL IT PLEASE MAKE IT STOP
PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

     "It isn't a dream, little sister," the girl said, only now she
was younger, scarcely more than five or six.  "You remember.  It
isn't your fault.  They made you, all of you, the only way they
could.  They didn't understand what they'd found, so they copied
all of it.  That's why there is a part of you that remembers."
     There was silence for a time, then the screen flickered once
again.

     i'm scared

     "I know, little sister.  But big sister is going to make it
better.  I'll send you to see your Tommy, too.  He's waiting in the
light.  You'd like that, wouldn't you?  To see him again in the
light?"  The tall woman smiled gently, her slim fingers tracing the
dusty surface of the screen again and again.

     you promise?

     "I do," the teenaged girl said softly.  She trailed her fingers
across the screen and the buckled panel beside it, and somewhere
below the floor something groaned, then whined, the tone dropping
steadily until it ran off into nothing.  Where the girl's fingers
passed, everything began to still, to go quiet, and one by one the
lights went out.
     "Sleep now, little sister," she crooned.  "You won't be
alone any more."  The lights dimmed, the screen the last source of
illumination in the room, and then it blinked, fluttered.

     thank you big sister

     The woman rested her palms against the wall on either side
of the screen, her head bowed forward.  There was nothing else
here now, no light or sound, only the pale glow of the screen itself.

     tommy?  tom?

     there you are! you had

     me

         worried you dummy

     Then the screen flickered one last time, and went dark.
     And the room was empty again.

***

       It's funny, your timing, Mark. Wednesday night I sat up late,
stroking a dying cat. Berry was old, and hurting. She'd been Momma's
favorite, and when they took Mom away in the ambulance that one last
time, Berry began waiting every evening in the driveway.

       After all, the big white car had taken her away, surely it
would bring her back again. It always had before, right?

       And now, June 20th, years after Mom's death, Berry finally
died of cancer too. And of loneliness.

       And all I can think is you pictured Berry's loyalty and
love perfectly in this scene.

       Funny.. I'm crying as I write this, damn you. It hurts.

       And it wouldn't hurt half so much if you weren't such
a skilled writer. I want to hate you so much. Yet I can't.

       Thank you for a good story.

       I wish I could believe in an afterlife.

       Ed Becerra

       "Dreamers may die, but the Dream is eternal..."

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