Fiction | March 01, 1990
Down Among the Gilly Fish
Jeanne Dixon
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Before they let her have her clothes back so she could go, they reminded her once again — in the gentlest, kindest, most compassionate voices — that she could not see him again. Not in the way she claimed she had. “Oh, in the next life, surely, if you’re of that persuasion,” one of the doctors supposed, “but not in this world. What you see is what you want to see, a mental projection. This happens sometimes to those in certain circumstances.” What she saw was her true heart’s desire, and she understood this. Doctors are very scientific in their explanation. The dead stay dead. Buried is buried.
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