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In an obscure and remote village in the wilds of backwater France, in the back corner of a cemetery in a high mountain village, I stumbled on a small building, little more than a cabin, which had this sign on the door proclaming "Transformation Post ; No Entry ; Danger of Death". I asked the old bearded man who was sitting there what the story was. He explained that for some folks, who had decided that they had spent enough time in this dimension on this particular planet and were ready to move on, if they submitted the proper application for transformation to the council of elders, and it was approved, they could enter the Transformation Post and be transformed into pure white light, after which they could go where they pleased in the universe. . . and perhaps assume another form in another time and space.
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He pointed to a simple mechanism, a handle attached by a chain, and explained that his job was to pull the handle to set the Transformation machine in motion, once the subject had entered the Transformation chamber. He said business was up recently; to three or four a day . . .
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