A cold misty night. I sit in front of my parents' house, on the sidewalk, as if sunbathing. Moonbathing! The moon's turned silver and dim through the mist--I don't think I'll get a moon tan, let alone moonburned.

The front door opens. I thought they were asleep. My father comes out and sit on the front walk. My mother's slower. She's dragging out a leather Moroccan hassock, a round foot-rest. She plunks it in the ivy like a tree stump and sits on it. I crawl over and somehow attach my feet to the hassock. My body immediately feels light as a ghost and starts swinging slowly around the hassock, as if the ivy's a clock, and I'm its sweeping second hand. As I swing by my mother's feet, she raises her legs so I can sweep beneath...

I say "Don't bother; I'll go right through you when I'm like this, it's only my astral body."

Oh.

I wake up feeling alarmed. My spirit's orbiting my mom? Uh-oh! I don't like that!

Even is she IS no longer getting in the way...

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