I posted on Feb. 2nd regarding seance rooms, and our fear of them. I’ve avoided one of mine for so long I’d forgotten for a while that it existed. It came to mind today, and it occurs now that it may be why my Feb. 2 post ends so oddly. It is an answering machine tape, from around 1990, and on it is my mother’s voice. She hated answering machines and I think it may be one of 2 or 3 messages she ever left me. She knew I had been sick, and she hadn’t heard from me in a few days. I think I’ve listened to it once since she died in ’98. I know it’s around here somewhere, but I don’t want to think about exactly where.