Friday, April 18, 2008

Neglected Soul

Julie sat in the arm chair and closed her eyes. When she’d first begun to open the gates to the Other Side she’d prepared herself as the books said she ought; cross-legged on the floor (it had taken almost two years before she managed full lotus) with her hands resting lightly on her thighs. Five years it had taken her to realise that the people who advocated that didn’t know squat. The number of times she’d been thrown out of a trance by a spasm of cramp in her toes or an itchy thigh had encouraged her to try sitting a little more comfortable. Lying down was best, but people took exception to that in shops and modern café’s with soft furnishings were all the rage. She slid into a trance and found herself on the gravel path between the worlds.

“You took your bleedin’ time,” said her aunt Gladys. “I’ve been waiting here for hours.” She rummaged in her handbag, one remarkably similar to that she’d had in life, only with more pockets. “Here,” she said, thrusting a folded piece of paper at Julie. “This is from that demon friend of yours. Not that I hold truck with consorting with the likes of him. You can dismiss me now. Not that you ever think of me ever. When was the last time you put flowers on my grave? It shocking, what young people do these days--”

Julie dismissed the spirit with a wave of her hand and looked at the note. Lettering in sworls and jagged edges crawled across the lilac paper and she frowned to decipher the tongue of the abyss.”

“I’ll get a take-away for tea,” it said. “Love you, J XxX.”

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