A Short Film

A man is on the internet. The camera records what is going on on the computer. He had been looking at the news of the death of his wife. He goes to a Facebook equivalent. Suddenly he is given a suggestion to add her as a friend. He presses Yes after a moment of thinking about it. Then he says, ah, what am I doing? And pushes away from the computer and cries.

Next day he arrives back in front of the computer. He has been befriended by his wife. He is about to pass it up when he goes back to it and wonders about it. He presses the connection. He sees: HOW ARE YOU?

He is taken aback.

Who is this?

He sits there and waits. Nothing. He closes the computer and leaves. Next day. Night. Lamp on. He opens it. He goes right to it.

Who do you think?

I don’t know. Suddenly he is im’d. It’s me , stupid. It’s Lydeen, sweetheart. It’s me. It really is. You’ve got to believe me.

Who is this? This isn’t funny.

But it’s me. Donny, it’s me. I’m here.

He closes the computer.

He’s at the office. He is making a paper airplane as he glances over at his computer which is dark. He is saddened and troubled as he makes the airplane and looks at the computer. He finishes and flies it at the camera.

He sits in the chair. He opens it up. He turns it on.

This is written:

Dearest Donald,

It is true. I have passed. I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I am in a better place now. I can’t explain it exactly….

He closes the computer, gets up, unplugs it from the wall. Carries it outside with him. Ends up on a bridge. Holds it over the bridge as though he is going to drop it.

Sitting at a bar or a coffee house. Doing economic tables only. No internet.

Back home.. He opens up the computer and starts writing this to his new friend:

Only because I understand that man does not live without depths unfathomable will I allow myself the luxury of entertaining your existence as the truth. Who knows? Weirder things have happened, I’m sure. If not, then this is it and I am privy to it. I am the one chosen to tell the world that there is “an Other side” and I will have to accept that, so, in this giving spirit, I will allow you a chance. Also, because I am desperate and don’t care much anymore anyway. Let’s play.

He closes it.

Sits with a psychiatrist.

So, you talk with your wife?
Okay, okay, I just wanted to confirm that with you. Your father in law pushed you into this?
So far you are only what I have read on these notes. Bah. So, what’s going on?
My wife has gone ahead and prepared a mansion for us, well, not her, but God, just like the Bible said, but it’s not a mansion, but something she can’t explain very well or I can’t understand because it’s a different dimension of some sort.
What does that mean? A different dimension?
Well, it’s like I was on a platform over here and way over there was someone else was on a platform, but there were a million miles between us and yet we could hear each other’s voices. That voice would get a little wavey after awhile and would get netherworldly, I suppose you could say, but worldly nevertheless and my wife is talking to my like that, from there, from over there in those netherworlds, well, netherworlds to us because we’re alive. We’re netherworlds to Lydeen. That’s my wife. Lydeen.
I see.
No, not really.
I want to and we’re just starting.
What else?
Nothing else. That’s it. No spaceships, nothing else. She just writes me and I write her back.
Oh this isn’t aural? You know, you don’t hear her?
Oh, no, she comes in on Spaceface.

The doctor rolls her eyes.

I saw that.
I know. I know. It didn’t say that on here.
I don’t know your process here. That’s you guys.
I know. I know. Spaceface.
Yup. I know this sounds dumb.
It does.
And obvious. Someone is playing a joke on me, right?
I know. Logical. Logical. My wife is gone five months now. Someone read the obit, saw my name and said, hey, a big laugh. And if it really was Lydeen why would she do that and make me look crazy, like I can very easily see it does. I’m not blind here.

He stops and takes a drink of water.

I’m not blind. I’m not blind.
No, no. You’re not blind. I know that, Mr. Preston.
No, I’m not blind. I’m not by God.

He opens the computer:


There, this is the The now. The there and the here and when we see each other again, enough of the little hole and spaceface and be. I’m sorry: BE! Yes, then this and we and soon and Yes. YES. Soon. Don’t worry. Each has its spacetime. You/Us cosmic memory. Future/Past. Yes.


Saw the doctor today. Said I should stop seeing you. Thought that anyway, because she saw that I saw the stupidity in it. You are someone making fun of me, that whole thing. I believe you, but weary of days of not being able to see you. At first it was play, but now it is not.

He sends and closes the computer.

Montage of their days together. A true love montage with music.

He sits there at the computer again. Different day. He opens the letter.


Will in time oh go be by again for us. Will go again. This time within and then again for us. You and I wonder again can gain this gain again. You’ll see. Flipping out gleefully and now…release you lamb…go…again…and remember…IheartU. I heart U very much. I do.


Goodbye then you, turtle, into the mysterioso of grand life. IheartU2.

The man closes the computer and smiles, gets up and leaves.

Published in: on October 22, 2009 at 6:02 pm  Leave a Comment  

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