of thoughts with no form to affect anything.
However…
A thought occurred to him. Surely if the old man could somehow transfer to his body, then Robert could do the same. All he had to do was get in the old man’s body first, rouse it, and then tie up his own body. Perhaps a few threats, a bit of minor damage, and the old man would vacate. Robert mentally shrugged. At this point he had little else to lose.
Shutting his astral eyes, an act that didn’t actually block anything out, but merely allowed him to focus inwards, he pictured what it would be like to be in the old man’s body. Frail, full of aches and unwanted spasms. No longer able to digest the foods he liked so much. No more fatty burgers, excess amounts of pop. Just a carefully controlled diet and…
Oh my god!
He was there. Within a split second of being in that old, disgusting, body Robert knew he wanted to be anywhere but. There were thoughts, images, not of his making. There was no doubt in his mind—if, indeed, he even could claim to have his own mind while inside the body of this disgusting thing!—that he had not lived the life he was now being exposed to. His life had been dull, yes, boring beyond words, but at least it had been safe, free of such sin as this!
The man, Bernard Jacob Rubin, had been such a good fellow in his younger years. Always there for his family and his friends. This house had welcomed many a person over the years; no one was turned away from his happy home. His wife would busy herself in the kitchen preparing food and drinks for their guests while he entertained them with stories—for Bernard was a storyteller of the finest order. People were always telling him to write them down, but he never truly believed in himself. Then one day they took in a young woman, Georgia, the daughter of Frank and Julie Nettles, very dear friends of his wife and he. Georgia was something of a trouble maker, but Bernard saw the light in the seventeen-year-old. Alas, it seemed Bernard saw too much, and a lot more than the young woman saw in herself. Soon Bernard was lured to the teen’s bedroom and…
“No!” Robert shouted, and expelled himself from the old man’s body with haste.
He hovered there, once again mind without form, only this time he felt contaminated. He had seen what happened and wanted to shut it out, but he could not. Even as he pulled out of Bernard’s shell the scene had continued, the events speeding up like some fast-forwarded film, taking Robert right up to the moment where Bernard had opened the door to him less than a half-hour ago.
Robert was revolted. The hatred, the self-loathing. Once again, though, it was not truly him feeling this. These emotions, intense, eating away at the core, came from the old man. Bernard.
Robert now understood, but he was helpless to prevent what was going to happen.
Robert’s body was on its feet, animated by the presence of Bernard. He reached beneath the table, rummaged through the trash, and pulled out a steel pipe. He looked up, and Robert was shocked at the lack of feeling on his own face. It was as if Bernard was beyond being able to express the guilt that had eaten at him every single day for the last twenty years.
“You see, Robert, this is what I must do. Penance for my sin… Never in my life have I ever thought of touching, even looking at, another woman. I had my wife, what did I need other women for? We let this Georgia in, did our best to help her and she…” Bernard shook Robert’s head. “Yes, she was legal, but she was the daughter of a friend, someone I took in. People tell me she led me on, but…” Even now, the words were beyond him. Helpless to act, all Robert could do was listen to what Bernard had to say. That it came in Robert’s own voice disturbed him greatly, even more than what he had seen of Bernard’s life. “It was this body,” Bernard continued, pointing at the old body lying on the dirty floor, “that gave in, allowed itself to be led