Thought.is

“Excuse me,” I said to the flight attendant. “The guy next to me, do you know where he went?” I extended my finger towards my seat, the row of which still remained empty. Just then, the plane started to shake, and the “seatbelt sign” illuminated, accompanied with a small yet terror-inducing ding.

This was winter in northern Michigan and this was private property. There was no reason anyone should have been outside in freezing temperatures pounding on my parents’ window.

Suddenly, I felt sick to my stomach. That’s when we heard the voice.

Lonely. Bored. Nerd. Those were the words I wrote down on the little pad of paper Dr. Gordon had given me…

“What’s happening to me?” I asked. “I want to call my mother. Where’s my mother? Where is my phone?”

My husband’s face went from confused to sympathetic, then he responded, “Honey, your mom died. Eight years ago.”

You are simply pandering to the ignorant in an effort to sell your merchandise.