“Seth material” search engine (Jane Roberts)

“I saw Miss Cunningham, of all people,” I said. “We were in a hospital. She wore a black suit, and her eyes were terribly red and sore. She was crying, saying over and over, ‘Oh dear, I have to go away, and I don’t want to go.’ There was a glassed-in area to the left in the hospital lobby, where you could buy gifts for the patients. It was all so real.”

The minute I knocked on the door, Miss Cunningham opened it. Her hands reached out for mine, supplicatingly. Usually she was primly polite and rather distant. The change in her manner instantly alarmed me. Startled, I drew back for just a moment before asking what was wrong. “Oh, I’m so glad to see someone,” she said. “I’m so upset. I’ve just learned that I have cataracts, and I’ll need operations on both of my eyes. It’s so depressing.” Her voice wavered. With a gesture of despair, she waved at the floor-to-ceiling bookcases and at the magazines piled on the coffee table. “I read so much … so much. What would I ever do if I lost my sight?”