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Maggie Collins lives in New Orleans, Louisiana. She writes about oral and cultural traditions of the Creoles of Southwest,
Louisiana. An excerpt from her novel "The Curse of the Mulatto", which is based on a folktale, was published in the spring
edition of
Louisiana Cultural Vistas magazine. She placed as a finalist at the Words and Music Conference for her novel "The
Curse of the Mulatto". She was also featured at the Louisiana Book Festival for the same novel. She enjoys writing in New
Orleans and playing Farmtown on Facebook.
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Encounters on Facebook

You can't explain away a coincidence. They are here and there among our reality. Reality is so final. Coincidences are so...

There were once two faces on Facebook. Two people exchanged thoughts, now lost in cyberspace somewhere.  Like <Last>
or number 150 of a discussion board.  These two Orbit-sized gum pictures on Facebook once held a coincidental conversation.

One face was a cute black chick with a fake fur collar and a flipped hairstyle like Jackie O. She enjoyed writing and reading
things that caught her attention right away in the Poets and Writers Registry. If something caught her attention, she would
leave them a comment/critique. This was how she met the other face. Her life was fast like the beat up car she drove.  She
only watched television in case something like swine flu or a terrorist attack will threaten her life.  Let's call her the...

Lady with the Fake Fur Collar

The other face was a damn good editor. Despite his caustic attitude to all, he enjoyed the arts - classical music, literature,
poetry, and art. Like everyone he is addicted. He loved his animals more than many people he knows. His profile picture was a
black cat perched on a weather beaten fence.  Let's call him...

Cat PerChed on a WeAther Beaten FeNcE

Lady with the Fake Fur Collar
The last time I had this feeling, I gave a reading to the Chase Visa credit card collector in 1993. A powerful feeling came over
me, and I guessed that he was an Asian-American with a dead sister who was reaching out to him. Sometimes it is hit or
miss, but I feel I must try to reach out to you. I have some really weird coincidences in my life.  When my uncle died, I had a
dream that someone was telling me something in French. I didn't know what it meant until I woke up and Google translated it.
I think that coincidences are weird. Some lady on Facebook says it has something to do with the
Celestine Prophecy or the
Mothman Prophecy. Coincidences are going to catch up with this world and when we can't explain them anymore, weird stuff
is going to happen. You know there is a whole coincidence thing with Hurricane Katrina, Abraham Lincoln and John F. Kennedy,
and the 911 Attacks. I think that God speaks to me in coincidences. He is letting me know that he is talking to me, and I can't
explain him away.

Cat PerChed on a WeAther Beaten FeNcE
I don't believe in God. And please slow down.

Lady with the Fake Fur Collar
Most writers don't. It is like their M.O. It fits right into their Prozac, depression, agnostic, atheism, and plain meanness. I am
the only happy, God-loving, St. John's Wort taking writer who believes in God on Facebook. I don't tell many Christians about
my gift because I fear being labeled a soothsayer even though I don't seek out people. They would take me to the proverbial
bonfire and burn me at the stake...

Every time I look at that black cat with green eyes (Profile Picture), I get the creepies.

Cat PerChed on a WeAther Beaten FeNcE

Lady with the Fake Fur Collar
I am getting that you are an overweight man with black hair.

Cat PerChed on a WeAther Beaten FeNcE

Slow down, you are typing too fast, and I can't keep up.

Lady with the Fake Fur Collar
Someone is showing me a picture of beach with hills and cottages.

Cat PerChed on a WeAther Beaten FeNcE


Lady with the Fake Fur Collar
Suddenly she feels a presence in the room with her.  She smells something burning; she rushes downstairs to see what it is.

When she returns, she writes...


Lady with the Fake Fur Collar
Listen, I don't know what is going on but I smelled something burning, and nothing was burning. Now I really think someone
wants to give you a message.

Cat PerChed on a WeAther Beaten FeNcE
My sister paints pictures like that, but she is not dead.

Lady with the Fake Fur Collar
Somebody who knows your sister is showing me this to let you know that I know what I am talking about. Who is dead in
your family and may want to give you a message?

Cat PerChed on a WeAther Beaten FeNcE
My grandmother is dead, but she died a long time ago. I think that you are probably just empathetic. You have strong feelings
about others. I don't think that it is anything about God.


He is eating a salad in between typing to the lady who he has recently added as a friend. He actually thought that her writing
wasn't all that bad, but she is nuts. It's weird that she has guessed about his sister's painting. It hangs in his room now. He
wants to ask about his grandmother, but he doesn't want to become a part of Looney Tunes. That stuff rubs off. He is
listening to Madame Butterfly. Huge, towering bookcases and books line his office.
The Comstock Review sits neatly on his
desk. This is kind of weird, but it is just a good guess. He now takes a puff of his Cuban cigar and looks at her profile picture
waiting for a response; he stares and waits for quickly appearing letters.

Lady with the Fake Fur Collar
Oh, well, I have to go now. My baby is on the floor making copies of his face and hands on the copy machine.

She waits for a response...

Cat PerChed on a WeAther Beaten FeNcE
So long.

The conversation now lost in the blogosphere. The print text is gone forever. But the exchange between humans, spirits, and
cats is somewhere in their memories in the memory space if not cyberspace.

They both click the green start button. Right above it sits the red button that reads:

Shut Down
Maggie Collins