Summer Job

Deny it if you will; but you, like Virgil, the central figure in this story, have an other-self inside your head. That’s right—been there since you were born—as a quasi-conscious part of your mind. Don’t scoff, nor suspect I’m calling you a nut case—although there’s plenty of those around—not at all. Keep an open mind. Think about it. And when you do think about it, you are likely to be buying time to do a doublethink with your other-self—it’s a kind of inter-cerebral by-play that happens when you think something over before you do it—a telepathic phenomenon only you and your other-self know about; unless, of course, you talk to each other out loud. Then, you really might be a nut case, or on the verge of stepping over the line—like into a twilight zone. If this partnership, if we may call it that, results in you being a law abiding citizen, a good son or daughter, a grade A student, etcetera, etcetera; then everything will be hunky-dory. On the other hand, you could have some real mental problems if your other-self influences you to do or say things that prove to be disastrous—perhaps in reaction to what someone else says or does, or out of just cussed meanness; which, of course, you don’t have to do unless you agree, or unless you allow your other-self to gain control of your own-self. It’s this latter condition that plagues Virgil...