At first I ignored it and went back to my magazine.But the voice came back, and I recognized it this time. It was my father, and he was definitely not...in the room with me. He had been dead for ten years already. But it was his voice for a certainty."Melanie..." he said, as clearly as if he were standing right in front of me.You would probably think this would shock me, but actually it was a common occurrence. I quite often heard him talk to me since he had died. That didn't mean I thought he. And there he was, standing in my doorway, waiting. He turned toward me as I walked toward him, and without speaking he pulled me to him, his lips finally finding mine as the rain soaked through to our skin. We stood like that for what felt like forever, exploring each other. As our lips parted we stood gazing at each other and finally he started to speak. “I had to know baby, and this seemed like the only way to be sure. I’m so sorry please forgive me?” I couldn’t speak; I was overwhelmed by. More

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