George Blights Flight
[i]THE Hale-Bopp comet had been of closest proximity to Earth on March 22, 1997, and consisted of a variety of elements: ice, rock, carbonatious crondites, methane, as well as organic chemicals such as ethanol, carbon and silicates. However, Hale-Bopps run passed Earth apparently had been of greater substance than that perceived by hundreds of millions of Earth folk. Indeed, at its closest point to Earth while passing our way, our planet was engulfed by the contents of the comets three, potent tailsone of which consisted of ions, the second of dust and the third of a thin tail of sodium atoms.
Due to the relatively close passing by this comet and its tails (not due to come back our way for about another 2,370 years), an extremely small quantity of Earths populace comprised of psychically orientated people had their varying abilities (some even greatly) enhanced and for some non-psychic-majority folk to witness.
Very few psychics could actually manipulate universal temporal reality and thus foresee future eventsboth of a good nature or bad, the latter being perhaps an approaching natural disasterwhile some psychically talented people could sense the presence of spirits, be they residual or sentient, or see in their minds eye the exact location of a missing persondead or alive.
As such occurred, it was recalled by some folk that about three centuries prior to the near passing of Hale-Bopp, one prominent and credible German psychic stated that her spirit guidea proclamation that had gotten her hung by the neckcommunicated a knowledge to her that on this precise date such a significant comet would pass, more specifically the zenith of its proximity to Earth, during which its three tails variety of unique non-Earthly elements would engulf the planet, thus settling onto Earths surface, though for no more than 60 seconds. This would enhance the psychic abilities held by an extremely small number of people whod just by chance come into direct contact with the tails elements during that brief 60-second period.
When asked by her fellow villagers why only these few psychics will be affected by the comets three tails elements, the renowned psychic replied that her spirit guide revealed to her that those few psychics had endured severe mental illness and then died an untimely, unnatural death in their previous life as a result of the mental illness. Unfortunately, theyd once again be afflicted with severe mental illness during their current incarnation.[/i]
__________________________________
HOW could something like this happen to me?! he screamed into his minds ear. You hear and read about such things, but to have such a horrific thing actually happen to me! Its the absolute epitome of a nightmarish ordeal! A viciously malicious ordeal!!
George Blight was told throughout most of his fifty-seven years of life that he had some sort of fortune-telling or potential for extra sensory perceptionthough exactly why he had it or the potential for it was never specified nor plausibly explained to him by all of those tarot card readers, etcetera, for whose services hed paid handsomely. However, what was happening to him at that moment was crystal-clearly real and horrific, though never, ever, foreseen in a premonition by him or by any other fortune-teller.
He was in fact experiencing the very worst of the very worststuck on a large DC-10 jetliner, caught in a very deep wind-shear, plummeting down towards the darkened eastern Atlantic Ocean, somewhere off the southwestern coast of France; with travel bags, pillows falling, sliding every which way, and hundreds of oxygen masks dangling from somewhere above.
Oh, God! ... If only Id taken the concord or How in the hell could not onejust oneof those countless card-readers and storefront psychics warn me of this death trip, trap. Peter did want to meet with me just yesterdayhed probably have known. But then again, hes also a fortuneteller, whos also not nearly accurate enough times in his foretelling of future events, and especially so with such negative ones.
Oh, my God, Im going to die!!
Peter mightve foreseen this ordeal but decided he was likely wrongas he is with such major matters, and especially likely so with airline disastersand thus realized that since I told him that I really should make this trip, he didnt want to scare me for nothing into canceling my reservation on this flight. He even assured me that I myself would almost certainly foresee such a disastrous event like this happen to me. He actually said, I really believe you have it in you, Big George guy.
But then it finally came. The sensation of the huge aircraft gradually leveling off, its nose and tail becoming parallel with the calm ocean below, all with the slow alleviation of the ear-piercing whine of the plummeting aircrafts four, huge, extremely powerful bypass-turbofan-jet engines.
His life was spared. Every passengers life was spared; all 356 of them. The pilot then informed all that the aircraft did indeed fly into a formidable wind shear.
But please remain seated with your safety belts on and secured. Thank you for your patience.
George closed his eyes with praise, as two drops of oily sweat rolled down his forehead, onto his glasses then finally made their way onto his pale cheeks.
Thank you, God! Oh thank you, God! Thank you so very much!
When the plane finally landed, he, being traumatized, found himself fumbling his nervous fingers while trying to take the bi-polar-disorder medication that his psychiatrist prescribed him a month earlier. He was so shook up that he thought he might not be able to get his medication out of its bottle and into his mouth.
Though finally having washed down his medication with the funny-tasting, standard airplane drinking water, he hustled himself off of the plane, down to the baggage claim, then outside to catch the first taxi to the nearest hotel with vacancy just for the night. There was no sense in going for a nicer hotel deeper into the city, since he was catching an early flight to Cairo the next morning, anyway, and definitely wouldnt have time to enjoy any of Pariss posh hotels.
Rather than allow the taxi driver to see just how badly his hands were shaking, he simply dropped an adequate amount of francs onto the drivers lap, bolted out of the vehicle and to the hotel entrance.
Regardless of his ordeal, he found himself hungry, and it was around breakfast time back home along the eastern U.S. However, he knew that there was a good chance that his unstable condition could embarrass him in the dining room, say, with a prawn shaking off of his fork and onto the table or, even worse, the floor.
Thus hed splurge and order room service for dinner, along with a bottle of soothing, bubbly white wine.
Washing down his last mouthful of sirloin steak with the last half-glass of wine, George kicked off his shoes and threw himself backwards onto the bed. He thought about how even living with severe mental illness, lifes is not that bad after all, assuming that thought wasnt just of survivors gratitude. For the previous thirteen years hed been a successful chief advisor with a large, financial firm, the proud father of three healthy teenagers and the husband of a beautiful, successful lawyer. And I did just survive a jetliners plunge thousands of feet towards the icy Atlantic Ocean.
But still overwhelming the positive stuff on his list was the fact that he, for the last half-dozen years or so, has found life to be rather inexplicably unbearablehis good job, three healthy children with his beautiful lawyer wife (who were worried about his recent severely depressed outlook and short-notice trip to Egypt) had become, simply put, unfulfilling.
His negativity plus his recent ordeal in the air, all combined, were still not enough to keep him awake. Soon, he closed his eyes and slept ...
Hey, mister; what are you doing out there? asked George, to the man standing outside on the hotels fourteenth floor ledge, which was but one and a half feet wide. Get back in here before you catch your death; its a freezing wind out here. He was the same bellhop whod delivered Georges room service barely an hour before.
Stay the hell away! the man warned. Or I will jump! I really mean it!
Cmon, guy; things cant be so bad if
Apparently, the bellhop had indeed been dead serious in his unrelenting desire to leap, and thats exactly what he did. Although George turned his eyes away to avoid the horrific sight, the French man leapt forward and down to the pavement belowobliterated into eternity. He thought that he could even hear the blunted crack of the mans bones upon impacting the pavement.
Oh! Crap!!
Snapping out of his slumber, George found himself lying on the bed with only about a half-hour having passed, according to the radios digital clock, which read 10:56 p.m.
Outside his closed-curtain window, though far closer to the window of the next hotel room, there were lamplights placed there to illuminate the hotels names large letters painted rose red on the outside brick wall.
I guess thats why this room was so atypically cheap.
He then sat himself up, wiping away with his hand the thin layer of sweat from his forehead.
It seemed so real, he mumbled, getting up to walk over to the rooms sole window.
Bothering him were the thoughtless words hed offered the nightmare bellhop during his final moments of life. Cmon guy; things cant be so bad, he replayed his own, exact words in his minds ear, cringing. What a stupid thing to say; what was I thinking? Well, it was just a dream, and stupid things are frequently said and done in dreams.
Seeking some cooler night air, he found the windowpane sticking to the frame since so few guests bothered opening it. After some strategically placed knocks with his hand, however, he eventually loosened it free. A light gust of early-autumn Parisian air blew into his face and room.
He looked straight out towards the well-lit airport runways no more than two miles away, before looking up and over to the city core, lit-up comparably bright to that of London or New York City.
Again the ordeal of the plummeting jetliner began playing in his mind when he was abruptly alerted by a sound like that of a squawking seal. He initially thought that the strange sound may be coming from just some birds outside on the ledge; however, when he went to look out the window, to the right, then the left, he found himself stunned numb at the sight of a man standing on the hotels outside ledge, with his back pressed against the brick wall, quivering from both fear and the notably cold night air.
The man was not well built, a fact evident by the small uniform into which he seemed to comfortably fit; plus he wore a small and also befitting strap-on cap. The man obviously had been crying.
Hey, youre the bellhop who served me my meal, said George, his nervous voice noticeable. Why the hell are you out there? Youll fall and kill yourself.
You are very bright, you are, replied the bellhop, in a strong French accent, sarcastically then rhetorically. One cannot get anything past you, can one?
The distraught bellhops sarcasm aside, George wondered how a man seemingly so determined to take his own life by jumping off of a towering buildings ledge felt so compelled to lean back against the brick siding, appearing to grasp onto anything out there available to grasp. Then again, he recalled hearing somewhere that when some people determined to kill themselves by jumping to their deaths flail wildly on their way down in a futile attempt to grasp at somethinganything. It must be instinctual, I guess, he mused.
Youre not going to jump, are you? he queried, really trying to not sound so stupid. Pleaselets talk.
There is nothing to talk about, mister. Now, please go away!
I cant just walk away and leave you out there, explained George. Being only five-foot-ten and 291 pounds, he didnt particularly desire going out onto the ledge to join the bellhop.
Please, mister, leave me alone, the bellhop begged. There is nothing to talk about.
Sure, theres plenty to talk about. For example, the jet plane I was flying in just a few hours ago actually almost plunged into the ocean. I sweated for God to spare my life, and here youre planning to snuff out yours. The ironies in life can really be bitter, dont you think?
Finding himself considering whether he couldve come across as more thoughtful than he had, he noticed that the bellhop wasnt clasping so intently onto the hotels siding as he was before; rather, the man was beginning to lean a bit forward.
Whoa, guybe careful out there! Believe me, lifes worth living, he urged, again sounding foolish, futile and desperate. I mean I mean things will
It all, though, did not matter in the end, since the bellhop decided against Georges reasoning and pleas, however well-intentioned. However, it wouldnt have mattered what anyone wouldve said to the deeply troubled man; things were, at least from his perspective, simply that bad in his life.
Thus George again, just like in his nightmare, turned his eyes away just as the bellhop jumped out as far as he could and fell like a rock, down onto the recently-paved street below. Had it not been for the noisy vehicular traffic, he believed, he would have heard an audible thud of the mans body hitting the cement street and shattering within.
He could not believe his eyes. He had in fact dreamt virtually the whole thing just minutes before. How couldve I known? Was my dream just that, naught but a dream followed by an extreme coincidence? Or did I have a premonitiona very disturbing peek into the future?
Hed dismiss it all if it wasnt so disturbingly accurate; so extremely accurate. But then again, why didnt I foresee the airplane incident? Oh, but nobody died in that incident; the plane didnt even crash.
In his dream, the bellhop was dressed the exact same way as the bellhop whod just really killed himself. And most important, the subject of his dream leapt to his death from the same ledge, just outside the window, as did the bellhop in reality.
Whats all of this about? How the hell did I know?!
Regardless, he realized that French city police would probably want to talk with him about the terrible incident. But he decided that he had nothing informative to offer; any chance he had to have talked the despondent man out of committing suicide, was long gone, forever.
I should leave it all alone, he mumbled assertively to himself. Yeah, Ill leave it all alone and be on my way.
If police insisted on discussing the matter with him, hed just reply, I didnt hear a thing. I mustve slept through it all; jetlag, I guess.
At seven the next morning (about nine the night prior for his body clock), George got himself out of bed at the insistence of his digital clocks alarm. He dressed then went downstairs to see if there was any mention in any Parisian newspaper regarding the suicide the night before. He doubted it, though, for the city is huge, and there mustve been other, far more newsworthy occurrences on which to report than one low-wage worker jumping to his death.
Scanning the publications at the newsstand, he found that many of them mentioned that there had been a record-setting high in the rate of suicides during the preceding twenty-four hours.
One prominent newspaper printed as its main headline, High Number of Suicides in City an Anomaly, says Sociologist. He looked through the copys pages, stopping only to read, Astronomers Scan the Sky for Hale-Bopps Closest Come-by. That was yesterday, he thought, looking at the copys date, which read March 23, 1997.
He then left the hotel lobby and flagged down a cab for the airport.
Theres a first at some point in everyones life, he reminded himself, and for some or even many people, a first for the paranormal or supernatural. Perhaps Hale-Bopps effect on our planet is such a first for all of humanity.
He could recall reading or hearing about Hale-Bopp passing by relatively near Earth and that it, or more accurately its tails element-rich debris, would be abnormally visible to the naked eye at night, though necessarily away from interference by bright city lights.
He probably would have noticed it the night before when he first opened the hotel window if it were not for the bright lights from the airport and the city illuminating any darkness necessary to observe space-bound objects.
But as of the day before, Hale-Bopp was just beginning its trek away from Earth (it was over a hundred million miles from Earth at that point).
His cab arrived at the airport a few minutes short of ten that morning, which left him about an hour and a half before the departure of his flight to Cairo International.
Having finished a chocolate éclair hed purchased there, he went over to a far-more quiet corner of the airport so as to get in a hopefully undisturbed nap. He set his watchs snooze alarm for half an hour, positioned himself in his chair as comfortable as possible and closed his eyes.
How can I sleep at all after almost crashing into the Atlantic Ocean aboard a nose-diving large jetliner? Plus witnessing a suicide in a nightmare and then have it reoccur just so but in reality? To sleep at all after experiencing that, would not one have to be callous or even cynical?
George briefly pondered over this concept for a few moments before dozing off into a refreshing slumber. When his watchs snooze alarm went off, he felt somewhat refreshed and notably relieved that he wasnt forced to endure another violent-dream-premonition as he had the night before.
Soon enough, it was time to board his plane, which hed dreaded repeating following the wind-shear incident, the fright flight of his life. But to his delight, he was not at all a nervous wrecknot then and not even during the flight; it was as though the airplane ordeal hed experienced just the day prior had not even occurred.
As it would be, the uneventful two hour flight to Cairo only justified his said contentment.
Even so, how can I be so calm? I still should be an emotional mess.
He didnt know why; just that he wasnt at all a mess.
Landing in Cairo, George felt unusually and inexplicably elated, about which he did know what. He finally was exactly where, geographically, he wanted to be in this worldjust a few hours from the Great Pyramids of Egypt; and, most important, it would be precisely there, he truly believed, where he was going to find true peace of mind.
Literally every single other effort had failed, and especially so with the fortunetellers of New York City, too many of whom, if not all, were corrupt. Every one of them had miserably failed and basically outright swindled him; thus he became determined to find something solid and pure with which to cure himselfunlike all of the psychotropic medications that he strongly felt did far more harm to him than good.
When he took his first step out of the airport structure, he was barraged by old men, young boys and the many in between, all simultaneously begging him to hire them to do any hump-busting hard labor to earn what amounted to peanuts back in the U.S.
You, sir; can you suggest a decent hotel? he asked one cabbie, before looking at one of the boys, and you, son; please put my luggage into the cab.
Yes, sir; right away, sir, said both, in unison.
My interest here, in your great nation, is to visit the true, pure mind and soul healers or healing structures indigenous only to Egypt.
Particularly at that moment, George radiated a form of positive energy, and there was a notable excitement in his demeanor (he wasnt even concerned with whether the two Egyptians could even understand him).
Yes, sir; right away, sir, both replied, again in unison.
Before he climbed into the cab, he immediately gave one boy what amounted to about a dollar in U.S. currency but what was a small fortune for the north African boy.
The best hotel, sirfor your means, of course, sir; the best hotel is the Pyramid Palace, suggested the eager cabbie, while pulling away from the curb diligently but forcefully, hoping to receive a generous tip. There, they have slot machines and card games.
Actually, he hastily replied, Im not at all interestednot one single bitin games of chance.
_______
George Blight did make his way to the Great Pyramids of Egypt, although just two weeks shy of a year prior to suffering a fatal brain aneurysm. However, according to a woman he befriended in Egypt, only ten minutes before the aneurysm occurred, he experienced a vivid vision during a brief nap in which he saw himself place his hand to his forehead before falling to the ground. He immediately awoke fearing the worst, which apparently caused his already-high blood pressure to rise even higher just prior to dropping dead.?
Due to the relatively close passing by this comet and its tails (not due to come back our way for about another 2,370 years), an extremely small quantity of Earths populace comprised of psychically orientated people had their varying abilities (some even greatly) enhanced and for some non-psychic-majority folk to witness.
Very few psychics could actually manipulate universal temporal reality and thus foresee future eventsboth of a good nature or bad, the latter being perhaps an approaching natural disasterwhile some psychically talented people could sense the presence of spirits, be they residual or sentient, or see in their minds eye the exact location of a missing persondead or alive.
As such occurred, it was recalled by some folk that about three centuries prior to the near passing of Hale-Bopp, one prominent and credible German psychic stated that her spirit guidea proclamation that had gotten her hung by the neckcommunicated a knowledge to her that on this precise date such a significant comet would pass, more specifically the zenith of its proximity to Earth, during which its three tails variety of unique non-Earthly elements would engulf the planet, thus settling onto Earths surface, though for no more than 60 seconds. This would enhance the psychic abilities held by an extremely small number of people whod just by chance come into direct contact with the tails elements during that brief 60-second period.
When asked by her fellow villagers why only these few psychics will be affected by the comets three tails elements, the renowned psychic replied that her spirit guide revealed to her that those few psychics had endured severe mental illness and then died an untimely, unnatural death in their previous life as a result of the mental illness. Unfortunately, theyd once again be afflicted with severe mental illness during their current incarnation.[/i]
__________________________________
HOW could something like this happen to me?! he screamed into his minds ear. You hear and read about such things, but to have such a horrific thing actually happen to me! Its the absolute epitome of a nightmarish ordeal! A viciously malicious ordeal!!
George Blight was told throughout most of his fifty-seven years of life that he had some sort of fortune-telling or potential for extra sensory perceptionthough exactly why he had it or the potential for it was never specified nor plausibly explained to him by all of those tarot card readers, etcetera, for whose services hed paid handsomely. However, what was happening to him at that moment was crystal-clearly real and horrific, though never, ever, foreseen in a premonition by him or by any other fortune-teller.
He was in fact experiencing the very worst of the very worststuck on a large DC-10 jetliner, caught in a very deep wind-shear, plummeting down towards the darkened eastern Atlantic Ocean, somewhere off the southwestern coast of France; with travel bags, pillows falling, sliding every which way, and hundreds of oxygen masks dangling from somewhere above.
Oh, God! ... If only Id taken the concord or How in the hell could not onejust oneof those countless card-readers and storefront psychics warn me of this death trip, trap. Peter did want to meet with me just yesterdayhed probably have known. But then again, hes also a fortuneteller, whos also not nearly accurate enough times in his foretelling of future events, and especially so with such negative ones.
Oh, my God, Im going to die!!
Peter mightve foreseen this ordeal but decided he was likely wrongas he is with such major matters, and especially likely so with airline disastersand thus realized that since I told him that I really should make this trip, he didnt want to scare me for nothing into canceling my reservation on this flight. He even assured me that I myself would almost certainly foresee such a disastrous event like this happen to me. He actually said, I really believe you have it in you, Big George guy.
But then it finally came. The sensation of the huge aircraft gradually leveling off, its nose and tail becoming parallel with the calm ocean below, all with the slow alleviation of the ear-piercing whine of the plummeting aircrafts four, huge, extremely powerful bypass-turbofan-jet engines.
His life was spared. Every passengers life was spared; all 356 of them. The pilot then informed all that the aircraft did indeed fly into a formidable wind shear.
But please remain seated with your safety belts on and secured. Thank you for your patience.
George closed his eyes with praise, as two drops of oily sweat rolled down his forehead, onto his glasses then finally made their way onto his pale cheeks.
Thank you, God! Oh thank you, God! Thank you so very much!
When the plane finally landed, he, being traumatized, found himself fumbling his nervous fingers while trying to take the bi-polar-disorder medication that his psychiatrist prescribed him a month earlier. He was so shook up that he thought he might not be able to get his medication out of its bottle and into his mouth.
Though finally having washed down his medication with the funny-tasting, standard airplane drinking water, he hustled himself off of the plane, down to the baggage claim, then outside to catch the first taxi to the nearest hotel with vacancy just for the night. There was no sense in going for a nicer hotel deeper into the city, since he was catching an early flight to Cairo the next morning, anyway, and definitely wouldnt have time to enjoy any of Pariss posh hotels.
Rather than allow the taxi driver to see just how badly his hands were shaking, he simply dropped an adequate amount of francs onto the drivers lap, bolted out of the vehicle and to the hotel entrance.
Regardless of his ordeal, he found himself hungry, and it was around breakfast time back home along the eastern U.S. However, he knew that there was a good chance that his unstable condition could embarrass him in the dining room, say, with a prawn shaking off of his fork and onto the table or, even worse, the floor.
Thus hed splurge and order room service for dinner, along with a bottle of soothing, bubbly white wine.
Washing down his last mouthful of sirloin steak with the last half-glass of wine, George kicked off his shoes and threw himself backwards onto the bed. He thought about how even living with severe mental illness, lifes is not that bad after all, assuming that thought wasnt just of survivors gratitude. For the previous thirteen years hed been a successful chief advisor with a large, financial firm, the proud father of three healthy teenagers and the husband of a beautiful, successful lawyer. And I did just survive a jetliners plunge thousands of feet towards the icy Atlantic Ocean.
But still overwhelming the positive stuff on his list was the fact that he, for the last half-dozen years or so, has found life to be rather inexplicably unbearablehis good job, three healthy children with his beautiful lawyer wife (who were worried about his recent severely depressed outlook and short-notice trip to Egypt) had become, simply put, unfulfilling.
His negativity plus his recent ordeal in the air, all combined, were still not enough to keep him awake. Soon, he closed his eyes and slept ...
Hey, mister; what are you doing out there? asked George, to the man standing outside on the hotels fourteenth floor ledge, which was but one and a half feet wide. Get back in here before you catch your death; its a freezing wind out here. He was the same bellhop whod delivered Georges room service barely an hour before.
Stay the hell away! the man warned. Or I will jump! I really mean it!
Cmon, guy; things cant be so bad if
Apparently, the bellhop had indeed been dead serious in his unrelenting desire to leap, and thats exactly what he did. Although George turned his eyes away to avoid the horrific sight, the French man leapt forward and down to the pavement belowobliterated into eternity. He thought that he could even hear the blunted crack of the mans bones upon impacting the pavement.
Oh! Crap!!
Snapping out of his slumber, George found himself lying on the bed with only about a half-hour having passed, according to the radios digital clock, which read 10:56 p.m.
Outside his closed-curtain window, though far closer to the window of the next hotel room, there were lamplights placed there to illuminate the hotels names large letters painted rose red on the outside brick wall.
I guess thats why this room was so atypically cheap.
He then sat himself up, wiping away with his hand the thin layer of sweat from his forehead.
It seemed so real, he mumbled, getting up to walk over to the rooms sole window.
Bothering him were the thoughtless words hed offered the nightmare bellhop during his final moments of life. Cmon guy; things cant be so bad, he replayed his own, exact words in his minds ear, cringing. What a stupid thing to say; what was I thinking? Well, it was just a dream, and stupid things are frequently said and done in dreams.
Seeking some cooler night air, he found the windowpane sticking to the frame since so few guests bothered opening it. After some strategically placed knocks with his hand, however, he eventually loosened it free. A light gust of early-autumn Parisian air blew into his face and room.
He looked straight out towards the well-lit airport runways no more than two miles away, before looking up and over to the city core, lit-up comparably bright to that of London or New York City.
Again the ordeal of the plummeting jetliner began playing in his mind when he was abruptly alerted by a sound like that of a squawking seal. He initially thought that the strange sound may be coming from just some birds outside on the ledge; however, when he went to look out the window, to the right, then the left, he found himself stunned numb at the sight of a man standing on the hotels outside ledge, with his back pressed against the brick wall, quivering from both fear and the notably cold night air.
The man was not well built, a fact evident by the small uniform into which he seemed to comfortably fit; plus he wore a small and also befitting strap-on cap. The man obviously had been crying.
Hey, youre the bellhop who served me my meal, said George, his nervous voice noticeable. Why the hell are you out there? Youll fall and kill yourself.
You are very bright, you are, replied the bellhop, in a strong French accent, sarcastically then rhetorically. One cannot get anything past you, can one?
The distraught bellhops sarcasm aside, George wondered how a man seemingly so determined to take his own life by jumping off of a towering buildings ledge felt so compelled to lean back against the brick siding, appearing to grasp onto anything out there available to grasp. Then again, he recalled hearing somewhere that when some people determined to kill themselves by jumping to their deaths flail wildly on their way down in a futile attempt to grasp at somethinganything. It must be instinctual, I guess, he mused.
Youre not going to jump, are you? he queried, really trying to not sound so stupid. Pleaselets talk.
There is nothing to talk about, mister. Now, please go away!
I cant just walk away and leave you out there, explained George. Being only five-foot-ten and 291 pounds, he didnt particularly desire going out onto the ledge to join the bellhop.
Please, mister, leave me alone, the bellhop begged. There is nothing to talk about.
Sure, theres plenty to talk about. For example, the jet plane I was flying in just a few hours ago actually almost plunged into the ocean. I sweated for God to spare my life, and here youre planning to snuff out yours. The ironies in life can really be bitter, dont you think?
Finding himself considering whether he couldve come across as more thoughtful than he had, he noticed that the bellhop wasnt clasping so intently onto the hotels siding as he was before; rather, the man was beginning to lean a bit forward.
Whoa, guybe careful out there! Believe me, lifes worth living, he urged, again sounding foolish, futile and desperate. I mean I mean things will
It all, though, did not matter in the end, since the bellhop decided against Georges reasoning and pleas, however well-intentioned. However, it wouldnt have mattered what anyone wouldve said to the deeply troubled man; things were, at least from his perspective, simply that bad in his life.
Thus George again, just like in his nightmare, turned his eyes away just as the bellhop jumped out as far as he could and fell like a rock, down onto the recently-paved street below. Had it not been for the noisy vehicular traffic, he believed, he would have heard an audible thud of the mans body hitting the cement street and shattering within.
He could not believe his eyes. He had in fact dreamt virtually the whole thing just minutes before. How couldve I known? Was my dream just that, naught but a dream followed by an extreme coincidence? Or did I have a premonitiona very disturbing peek into the future?
Hed dismiss it all if it wasnt so disturbingly accurate; so extremely accurate. But then again, why didnt I foresee the airplane incident? Oh, but nobody died in that incident; the plane didnt even crash.
In his dream, the bellhop was dressed the exact same way as the bellhop whod just really killed himself. And most important, the subject of his dream leapt to his death from the same ledge, just outside the window, as did the bellhop in reality.
Whats all of this about? How the hell did I know?!
Regardless, he realized that French city police would probably want to talk with him about the terrible incident. But he decided that he had nothing informative to offer; any chance he had to have talked the despondent man out of committing suicide, was long gone, forever.
I should leave it all alone, he mumbled assertively to himself. Yeah, Ill leave it all alone and be on my way.
If police insisted on discussing the matter with him, hed just reply, I didnt hear a thing. I mustve slept through it all; jetlag, I guess.
At seven the next morning (about nine the night prior for his body clock), George got himself out of bed at the insistence of his digital clocks alarm. He dressed then went downstairs to see if there was any mention in any Parisian newspaper regarding the suicide the night before. He doubted it, though, for the city is huge, and there mustve been other, far more newsworthy occurrences on which to report than one low-wage worker jumping to his death.
Scanning the publications at the newsstand, he found that many of them mentioned that there had been a record-setting high in the rate of suicides during the preceding twenty-four hours.
One prominent newspaper printed as its main headline, High Number of Suicides in City an Anomaly, says Sociologist. He looked through the copys pages, stopping only to read, Astronomers Scan the Sky for Hale-Bopps Closest Come-by. That was yesterday, he thought, looking at the copys date, which read March 23, 1997.
He then left the hotel lobby and flagged down a cab for the airport.
Theres a first at some point in everyones life, he reminded himself, and for some or even many people, a first for the paranormal or supernatural. Perhaps Hale-Bopps effect on our planet is such a first for all of humanity.
He could recall reading or hearing about Hale-Bopp passing by relatively near Earth and that it, or more accurately its tails element-rich debris, would be abnormally visible to the naked eye at night, though necessarily away from interference by bright city lights.
He probably would have noticed it the night before when he first opened the hotel window if it were not for the bright lights from the airport and the city illuminating any darkness necessary to observe space-bound objects.
But as of the day before, Hale-Bopp was just beginning its trek away from Earth (it was over a hundred million miles from Earth at that point).
His cab arrived at the airport a few minutes short of ten that morning, which left him about an hour and a half before the departure of his flight to Cairo International.
Having finished a chocolate éclair hed purchased there, he went over to a far-more quiet corner of the airport so as to get in a hopefully undisturbed nap. He set his watchs snooze alarm for half an hour, positioned himself in his chair as comfortable as possible and closed his eyes.
How can I sleep at all after almost crashing into the Atlantic Ocean aboard a nose-diving large jetliner? Plus witnessing a suicide in a nightmare and then have it reoccur just so but in reality? To sleep at all after experiencing that, would not one have to be callous or even cynical?
George briefly pondered over this concept for a few moments before dozing off into a refreshing slumber. When his watchs snooze alarm went off, he felt somewhat refreshed and notably relieved that he wasnt forced to endure another violent-dream-premonition as he had the night before.
Soon enough, it was time to board his plane, which hed dreaded repeating following the wind-shear incident, the fright flight of his life. But to his delight, he was not at all a nervous wrecknot then and not even during the flight; it was as though the airplane ordeal hed experienced just the day prior had not even occurred.
As it would be, the uneventful two hour flight to Cairo only justified his said contentment.
Even so, how can I be so calm? I still should be an emotional mess.
He didnt know why; just that he wasnt at all a mess.
Landing in Cairo, George felt unusually and inexplicably elated, about which he did know what. He finally was exactly where, geographically, he wanted to be in this worldjust a few hours from the Great Pyramids of Egypt; and, most important, it would be precisely there, he truly believed, where he was going to find true peace of mind.
Literally every single other effort had failed, and especially so with the fortunetellers of New York City, too many of whom, if not all, were corrupt. Every one of them had miserably failed and basically outright swindled him; thus he became determined to find something solid and pure with which to cure himselfunlike all of the psychotropic medications that he strongly felt did far more harm to him than good.
When he took his first step out of the airport structure, he was barraged by old men, young boys and the many in between, all simultaneously begging him to hire them to do any hump-busting hard labor to earn what amounted to peanuts back in the U.S.
You, sir; can you suggest a decent hotel? he asked one cabbie, before looking at one of the boys, and you, son; please put my luggage into the cab.
Yes, sir; right away, sir, said both, in unison.
My interest here, in your great nation, is to visit the true, pure mind and soul healers or healing structures indigenous only to Egypt.
Particularly at that moment, George radiated a form of positive energy, and there was a notable excitement in his demeanor (he wasnt even concerned with whether the two Egyptians could even understand him).
Yes, sir; right away, sir, both replied, again in unison.
Before he climbed into the cab, he immediately gave one boy what amounted to about a dollar in U.S. currency but what was a small fortune for the north African boy.
The best hotel, sirfor your means, of course, sir; the best hotel is the Pyramid Palace, suggested the eager cabbie, while pulling away from the curb diligently but forcefully, hoping to receive a generous tip. There, they have slot machines and card games.
Actually, he hastily replied, Im not at all interestednot one single bitin games of chance.
_______
George Blight did make his way to the Great Pyramids of Egypt, although just two weeks shy of a year prior to suffering a fatal brain aneurysm. However, according to a woman he befriended in Egypt, only ten minutes before the aneurysm occurred, he experienced a vivid vision during a brief nap in which he saw himself place his hand to his forehead before falling to the ground. He immediately awoke fearing the worst, which apparently caused his already-high blood pressure to rise even higher just prior to dropping dead.?
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