Low Magick by Lon DuQuette (little red riding hood read aloud TXT) 📗

were gorged and painfully uncomfortable. Constance began to serve her penance by cleaning up the kitchen and attacking the dishes. I moved to the computer and tried unsuccessfully to write. The remaining one-third of the quiche cooled on the kitchen counter.

An hour later we were both still groaning and holding our bloated bellies (of course I had a much bigger burden). The quiche had cooled enough to be wrapped in plastic and put in the refrigerator, which is exactly what Constance was preparing to do when a spirit of gluttony most foul whispered in my ear and counseled me that tomorrow the quiche would not taste nearly as good as is does right now. It would be a waste—a sacrilege—a crime! Sated or not, we should eat the rest of the quiche before going to bed tonight—and that was that!

Constance would have none of it, but she was too tired and full to argue with me. She went off to a hot bath, and I sat in the darkened living room and ate the rest of the broccoli quiche straight out of its baking dish. I went to bed—too full to stay awake—too full to fall asleep. Constance joined me in a few minutes and fell immediately asleep. Our cat Luis snuggled in his usual place, sandwiched tightly between us. In a few minutes, I became too uncomfortable to remain in my physical body. I heard that crazy sound in the center of my head and felt the familiar electrical buzz. Then, without further fanfare, I floated out of my body on a sickening wave of pure butterfat.

I should point out the fact that I did indeed know that I was in a projection. But I was extremely groggy and wanted very much just to fall deeply asleep and make this all stop! It seemed like I was heading toward that blessed realm when I heard a noise outside at the front door. I rolled over to see if I could hear a bit better.

Constance: Oh God! He’s rolled over. I hope he doesn’t smash the cat.

Luis the cat: Oh God! He’s out of his body again. I think he’s lying on my back legs.

Yes! It was clear. Somebody was trying to get into the house. I rolled out of bed and quietly crept out into the hallway.

Constance: Well! There goes his arm. He’s out of his body. I’ll get no sleep tonight!

Luis the cat: If he rolls over any farther, there won’t be room for me!

I tiptoed through the living room to the front door. I peered out the window in the door (completely ignoring the fact that there is no window in our front door) and saw three or four shadowy figures crouched on the doorstep. Suddenly, I heard a noise behind me in the living room. “One got in!” I thought. I was right.

As I turned around …

Constance: There he goes rocking back and forth.

Luis the cat: Ouch! Damn it! That hurts! Why doesn’t he just die and let me sleep!

… I saw a shadow slip inside the large closet that forms the entire south side of our living room. Once inside the closet, the intruder slowly slid the door closed from the inside. It was a very spooky moment.

Completely ignoring the fact that there is no closet in our living room, I stood still while I debated with myself about what I should do.

Constance: At least he’s stopped rocking. I wonder if he’s breathing.

Luis the cat: zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

It is at this point that I get completely caught up in the action. Part of me knows I’m projecting and/or in a dream, and part of me doesn’t. I start to weigh my options as if there were a real intruder in my real house. “I better be careful. Maybe I can somehow trap him in there and call the police. I don’t have a gun or a knife or a club … what can I do?”

Then the thought hit me, “I’m huge. I weigh three hundred pounds. I can just fall on this bastard and crush him to a pulp!”

Constance: zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Luis the cat: zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

I march over to the closet door and violently slide it open. Cowering in the dark corner is a slimy lump of blackness that looks very much like the character Smeagol or Gollum from The Lord of the Rings. I suddenly feel I have the power to terrorize this creature out of existence—or at least scare it out of my living room. I muster the most hideous face and swell my titan bulk to monstrous stature. To assure that my voice will billow with the thunder of ten thousand volcanic devils, I suck in an enormous breath of air …

Constance: Oh no! Here it comes …

Luis the cat: God! Is he’s blowing up! Is he trying to crush me to death?

“I’LL CRUSH YOU!” were the words my astral body voice was trying to bellow, but all that could come out of my physical body back in bed was a blood-curdling …

eeuuyyyyiiiiiiiiiieyeeeLLLLLLLL …

KRUUSHHHHHSHHH

UUUUUUUUUUUUUeh!

Luis the cat then knew for sure I was going to crush him to death. He clawed Constance, desperately trying to pull his back legs out from under me, and when he was free his feet did not touch the floor until he was well outside the bedroom.

I had awakened fully and the realization of what just happened struck me so funny that I began laughing hysterically (Constance says “maniacally”). She told me I scared her to death, but her main concern was that our neighbors must have heard and had the scare of their lives. We were both certain the police were on their way. What would be my defense … quiche intoxication? Astral projection?

You Know You’re Out of Your Body …

When you feel a thrilling tingling sensation in the pit of your stomach, heart, throat, or back of the neck. When you notice this thrill in a dream, it means you have made the identity shift necessary for an OBE.