Dear John (Relocation Theme)

[Varda]

By the time you read this, you will have found my body.

Don't grieve. I’m not dead. I’ve just moved out.

It’s not anything you did. It was the right time.

I’m worried about you, though. You don’t have many friends apart from me. So someday I’ll visit. I’ll knock, you’ll invite me in for coffee, and after a long chat, I’ll explain everything and we’ll laugh.

But you won’t recognize me in my new skin. I could be old or young, male or female, Greek or Israeli or Japanese. Better offer coffee to anyone who knocks. Just in case.

[gunsofchekhovia]

Deep. Rich. Velvety.

Well, maybe not velvety.

But very nice. I will be reading this one a few more times. How fortunate for our social lives that we do not molt bodies. How unfortunate, too.

[Varda]

Many thanks, Guns. You've got me craving cheesecake!

Extra-mopey existential musings ahead. Proceed at your own risk:

Spoiler:

Been in a really maudlin mood all weekend. It kicked off with a child's funeral, for one of my husband's teenage students who very unexpectedly passed away earlier this week. The sort of thing that leaves you sitting around thinking about life, death, and the hereafter. I believe in an afterlife, but I'd best describe my belief as really, really hoping there's one while at the same time realizing there's just no way anyone living can know for sure.

Was trying to explore that in this story. I was thinking of poor John, left with a note and a body and a choice. He can believe the note, and look for someone he loves in the faces of every stranger, hopeful that someday this person will come back to him. Or he can ignore the note and ignore the door.

So whaddaya do? I guess he runs the danger of handing out a ton of free coffee for no reason. But I guess there's worse ways to spend your life.

[MonsieurMoustache]

Reminds me of a story I couldn't final draft. Makes me want to finish it.

Beautiful concept and idea. This is one of my very favourites from you, and fits the theme in a surprising way.

[Varda]

Reminds me of a story I couldn't final draft. Makes me want to finish it.

Yes, do that! The right answer is always "finish the story."

[gunsofchekhovia]

So sorry, Varda. And I'm near where you are on the skepticism spectrum. I guess we would all do well to remind ourselves that we have little to lose and much to gain by offering coffee to all knockers.

Knockers?

Oh well. Screw it.

[strawman]

There's a story that Scott Peck tells about a monastery that is dying, down to a small number of aging monks.

The abbot searches out his old mentor in the woods for advice. The old man prophesies: "One of the monks in your monastery is Jesus. Discover which one it is, and the monastery will be saved."

The abbott returns to the monastery and recounts the revelation to his fellow monks.
They go to bed that night wondering which one of them it might be.

They start to treat one another differently, since "ya never know". People come for retreats to this place where the monks act as if any one of them might be the Lord. Word spread.

The puzzle was never solved, but the monastery was saved, along with all the monks.

[Varda]

Knockers?

Oh well. Screw it.

Okay, I splorted.

The puzzle was never solved, but the monastery was saved, along with all the monks.

Really cool story, Strawman. I guess it all comes down to hospitality when you put it like that.

[Flintknapper]

so what if he comes back as a dog? should he still offer it coffee. Or what if next time they meet he is a baby? you don't give a baby coffee. At least that is what people "tell" me.

Loved it. Good spec fic piece in general. It conveys a lot in only 100 words.