I had died. I don't know how that had happened - probably a traffic accident on the way home from this trip. I was being a ghost of some kind. I didn't know much... I just was.

I had metal claws on my hands - they were folded back on top of my hands with the sharp blades facing out. I could snap them out to their real length. I knew the living people could see those claws, even when they could not see the rest of me. I didn't use them to harm them, but I knew that would get people's attention.

I was somewhere in an old building full of machines of all kind. And this is where I saw a friend of mine (Che). I unfolded the claws, knocked on the table to get him to notice me, and whispered something.

He took a camera from somewhere and photographed me - then asked others to come, and an old guy came there with a Polaroid camera. He took some more pictures, and showed them to me. They were all black and white. In the first picture I could only see the claws, but it also had some of my arm. But in the second, I was already fully visible, in a gray, transparent form. I was wearing coat and carrying bags and a camera.

I was able to talk to him then, and we talked. I was feeling happy, everyone else was happy. And no one was sad when I had died - I was, after all, still here, just in a bit unusual form! Later, I walked past mirror and saw that I was becoming even more clearer, but the hair looked pretty odd... A small price to pay for eternal life, I guess.

Then, I was about to contact the other people. I went to my computer and started to type a newsgroup article ("Hi all, I'm dead, but don't be afraid, that doesn't seem to matter, I'm okay!"), but the problem was that I couldn't type with my ghostly fingers. I needed to think who would type this stuff for me... (Would the claws have helped?)


Explanations: Well, I had just read Small Gods again (many people experiencing the life after death there), a lot of spiritual questions being thought of recently, and also been worried about the family's supposed health on this dangerous journey. (I guess none of us will now think a three-week trip by car is a good idea... =) And, of course, taken a whole lot of photos. Determination beyond the grave, indeed...