Excerpts from a recording made during past life regression.

By Sam Slattery (c)

" I'm in the country side, surrounded by green hills, that ease off in all directions as far as the eye can see ...and, over head, there's a luscious blue sky completely uncluttered by clouds.

There's the gentle tweeting of birds-and distant church bells,mixing warmly with the aroma of pollen gliding on the lightest warm breeze.

I'm sitting really high up...on top of a wall-able to look pretty far off in all directions...

A cobbled road runs parallel to the wall, and follows it off over the hills-and far away...seemingly without end.

I'm swinging my porky little legs from side to side...

On my dainty feet, are a polished pair of shoes resplendent with garnishes of ribbon, each tied in a bow-that look like tap shoes. I roll my heels to admire them.

I'm really rather rotund...and my clothes are rich-and dandy...

I'm wearing a daffodil yellow waist coat, that doesn't reach all the way round-with three quarter length slacks..there are light orange checks stitched into the material, creating a strange speckled effect.

I rock myself slowly, from side to side...

Its getting hotter, the sun's reaching it's mid day zenith, I think-and I'm quite content sitting on the wall...gently rocking from side to side...

It all goes black...

I wake feeling shattered...open my eyes to see fragments of eggshell all around me-and soldiers running all over the place dressed in 19th century red coat uniforms, like extras from the battle of Waterloo.

I wriggle my fingers and toes-all my faculties are working-and try to pick myself up.

As I stretch my left arm, though, I'm conscious that, from my vantage point, it's right by my right foot...and my right foot is by my left knee...

"Don't worry, Mr Humpty, Sir" some one tells me, reassuringly.

A horses appears in my plane of vision-it's the horse talking to me.

"We've been given strict instructions by the king" he says "we'll try and have you back together again as soon as we can"

"Thank you" I reply, in a somewhat squeaky voice, from my mouth which, from where the eye, by my right ear, can fathom, is somewhere near my-er-bottom.

I glance at odd soldiers, and horses, standing around surveying the wreckage, and then it all goes black again...."