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Psychogenic

She wanted peace, and when she opened her eyes, that’s what she had. Pure white light filled Georgia’s eyes, and the warmth on her skin was divine. The grass she laid on was the perfect balance of hard and soft. There wasn’t a single sound. Peace.

Georgia sat up and took in the surroundings, drinking up the perfect day. She sighed in the delight of it all. Just perfect. Well, she thought, a bit of wine and cheese would… 

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[ sy-kuh-JEN-ik ]

Adjective

  1. Originating in the mind (having a psychological rather than a physiological cause).

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She wanted peace, and when she opened her eyes, that’s what she had. Pure white light filled Georgia’s eyes, and the warmth on her skin was divine. The grass she laid on was the perfect balance of hard and soft. There wasn’t a single sound. Peace.

Georgia sat up and took in the surroundings, drinking up the perfect day. She sighed in the delight of it all. Just perfect. Well, she thought, a bit of wine and cheese would… 

Before she finished the thought, she knew that a basket of wine, cheese, and crackers sat behind her. Georgia spun around, opened the wicker basket, and pulled out the contents. 

She feasted and drank her fill. Again, Georgia gave a long sigh of pleasure. Just perfect…

“Wait…” she said. Georgia looked around, becoming warry. She eyed the wicker basket, full of precisely what she wanted. “Was that there already or… ?” 

Georgia closed her eyes and imagined something else, something she would want. She opened her eyes, and there, right before her, stood a majestic white horse with a golden saddle. Georgia got to her feet, startled.

“That was definitely not there a moment ago!” 

To test her theory further, she thought and thought again. Without a sound of disturbance, a cottage formed twenty yards away, then a large pond, a dock, a kayak—

“I’d say,” came a man’s voice behind her, “that you should be quite convinced by now.” 

Georgia turned around to face the man. He was barefoot and wearing ripped jeans that flared at the ankle. He was bare-chested, and his dark skin made his bright blue eyes pop… or were they actually glowing slightly? She couldn’t tell, only that he was beautiful. 

“Who are you?” She finally said.

“My name is Raedon.”

“Why are you here?” 

“To see you.” 

Georgia looked around again, confused. Was he purposefully not giving her answers? Georgia imagined a fence, and it was suddenly there dividing them. He walked through it. 

“As I said, you must be quite convinced by now.”

“Convinced of what?” But she knew, and Raedon didn’t step in to explain. He was waiting. “I’m… dead, aren’t I?” 

“Totally dead, yes,” he said with a broad smile. 

“But I’m alive?” 

“Totally alive, yes.” 

“You’re not very helpful…” 

“My job isn’t to answer your questions but to help you see what you already know.” 

“But, if I’m dead, then why do I have a body?”

Raedon stepped forward and swung a fist at her stomach. She had no time to react, but no pain came. His arm passed right through her. 

“This is all in my mind…” Georgia said. 

“Totally in your mind, yes… but not in your brain.” His smile was ever-present, and she felt more at ease.

“What happens next?” 

“Ah! Finally asked the right question…”

“And the answer?”

“That’s the wrong question again! I told you! I’m not here to give you answers. You know them already. Let us walk to your cabin here, have a cup of tea, and you can tell me what you already know is next…”


Notes/Thoughts/Ideas

This is definitely the beginning of something. But I also imagine it as somewhere in the middle of a story. This scene is not her first time in this mysterious place after death. She already knows the answers but forgets them each time. 

So, this could be her thousandth visit or death. Why does she forget? What is next for her? I can picture a mission of some kind, made more difficult by the lapse of memory. And a friend, Raedon, who guides her mind back to its complete self after each iteration. 

Perhaps it becomes harder and harder to remember after each life and death? A lot of cool possibilities here and a lot of open pathways. So… 

What do you think of Psychogenic?

Where would you take this beginning? 

Leave your thoughts, ideas, your own story beginning/ending, flash-fiction, or whatever in the comments! Where did psychogenic or my story take you?

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