Archive for the ‘look what i made’ Tag

Stay in school, kids   Leave a comment

It’s the 1950s. Two COOL GIRLS are listening to some rock and roll. A third girl approaches.

Third Girl: What are you listening to? I’ve never heard of this sound before! It’s really h–ot
First Girl (interrupting): You weren’t going to say hot, were you?
Second Girl: That’s what our mothers say.
First Girl: Only old flapper girls trying to relive their childhoods say hot.
Second Girl: Only squares say hot.
Third Girl: No, I was going to say that it’s really…h…

She looks around in a panic, and sees them leaning on one leg, with their hands on their hips

Third Girl: …hip. It’s really hip.
Second Girl: What’s hip?
Third Girl: It’s better than chill. It’s better than cool. It’s not a temperature at all. It’s hip.

She shakes her booty. The Cool Girls gasp

First Girl: That’s so…
Second Girl: Hip.
First Girl: I know.

They all start dancing

Second Girl: Golly, it’s sure swell to rebel!

Posted May 30, 2015 by agentksilver in writing

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Ghost Hunters: this was supposed to be a twist but whatever, Andy discovers what Eva is   Leave a comment

As an atheist, Andy sincerely believed that nothing came after death. She had found comfort in it, in fact. When one died, there was no more worry about earthly problems; all your affairs were in order, whether you had planned it that way or not. You literally could not be bothered anymore. It took Andy a while to realize that she was even dead. She felt herself float in darkness and confusion. If there was life after death, was this it?

It was strange, not feeling anything. She couldn’t blink her eyes. She couldn’t feel her hair, or her skin. There was nothing around her.

But if she was nothing, then what was there?

She was welcome, wherever she was.

Ah, but there was a set of scales before her. What were the scales for? Did they weigh your deeds, put your evil ones on one side and your good deeds on another?

She knew that one side was filled with the people you had loved when you were alive. The other side was filled with the people you hated. If you loved more than you hated, you got to move on. Move on where?

That was yet to be decided. She had not been weighed.

She saw, then, her grandmother stand before the scales. She had just died. Eight years ago was now. There was no time here.

Her grandmother’s scales were tipped towards love. Her grandmother’s entire family (include Andy? How was she there?) stood there, as well as several friends; dozens, hundreds of people she did not recognize. There were only a few people on the hate side, people Andy did not recognize. Andy’s grandmother disappeared.

But what happened if someone hated?

Before the scales were Adolf Hitler. Only a few people stood on the Love side, people Andy did not recognize. But the Hate scale was weighed down by the millions, more than six million, more than eight million. How many?

Racism caused that. To hate a race was to hate millions.

But to love — Andy saw Mother Theresa before the scales, and all the children she had loved weighed down the scales. Mother Theresa disappeared.

What about a child? And she saw a child of about nine, skinny and sickly. Not a lot of people were on the scales, but the child had loved more than hated. Was that any child? Was any child born loving?

Andy saw a child of about three crying before an empty set of scales. No, in order to love, someone must learn to forgive. This child was too small to learn to forgive. And so the child cried.

But the child’s grandfather appeared. He lifted the child up and claimed the child as his. The two of them disappeared. The grandfather was capable of love, and so truly loved the child.

But Nathan Bedford Forrest stood before the scales, and though he had been loved, the power of all he had hated — all the people different from him — so outweighed the many he had loved, that he was not chosen.

Could an adult’s grown soul be empty?

Andy looked and saw Eva before the scales.

Andy and Eva looked at the scales.

The scales remained empty. They waited, but nothing appeared.

Eva had to be sent back. Andy knew that this was the cause of ghosts. Eva was going to become a ghost. But then Eva was called back, by the hospital, by the emergency room doctors, who were working desperately to save her life. Eva had to go back, but she had been measured. Her worth was nothing. She was an empty soul.

This was why the ghosts responded so well to her. She was one of them, although she hauled a body around over top of her soul.

Andy called to Eva, in this timeless nothing. But Eva couldn’t, or wouldn’t, or didn’t, hear her. Eva went back.

Andy yelled, but there was nothing in this existence. She screamed. She felt. The scales were before her — she saw all the people she loved, her parents, her brother, Claire, her grandmother, Liz, Sarah, Michael, all the nurses who worked her shift, a few girls she remembered from college, that barista, that waiter, how were they there? She saw the three people she hated, the three girls who had bullied her mercilessly in fifth grade — she had been weighed and she could move on, she could feel herself being pulled.

She yelled for Eva again. She need Eva to know. Eva had to know that her emptiness could be fixed, she could be saved, she could move on, if only she learned to love, if she learned to forgive, if she opened her heart and showed it to someone else —

Andy’s eyes blinked. Slowly her vision cleared. She found herself focusing on a chart in front of her. It was a white board. Instructions for nurses on it. To her right, a wall, a door. To her left, a curtain partition. She was in a hospital. She felt as fluffy as a cotton ball, and wondered if she was high on morphine right now. She didn’t remember anything, really, except that Eva was in trouble.

Andy had been brought back to save Eva.

Posted November 22, 2014 by agentksilver in writing

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The Adventures of Pizza Boy and Maggie: Meeting Brooke   1 comment

Emily: Okay, so, we’re agreed then, the tank is about fifteen feet wide. The water is I’m going to say three feet deep. I think any more and the grizzly won’t be able to move, and any less and the shark isn’t going to be able to swim. It’s a small shark.
Maggie: I still don’t see why it can’t be a polar bear.
Emily: Because it doesn’t matter.
Maggie: No, because polar bears can swim.
Emily: What?
Maggie: Yes.
Emily: No.
Maggie: You showed me, remember, you showed me that video of the polar bear that swam for thousands of miles.
Emily: And then it died!
Maggie: Of starvation! Because we’re killing it!
Emily: Fine. It can be a polar grizzly mix. Those exist.
Maggie: If it doesn’t really matter, then it could be a squid.
Emily: Octosquid!
Maggie: No, a squid, a giant squid, and they can have an epic grapple fight underwater.
Emily: Grapple fight? I hate grapple fights! There’s so many rules.
Maggie: No, it’s just a simple strength test.
Emily: No, there’s dexterity and endurance and-
Maggie: It’s all just strength! How long can you hold on? This isn’t D and D anyway, this is all hypothetical! So you can have this giant shark and this giant squid-
Emily: This is land versus water!
Maggie: Hear me out, so this giant squid and this giant shark are grappling under water, teeth are gnashing…wait, isn’t trivia night in half an hour? How are we getting to trivia night, anyway?
Emily: Oh, Brooke is driving us.
Maggie: Brooke?
Emily: Yeah, Brooke. From my poetry class, remember?
Maggie: Oh, I remember.
Emily: What’s wrong with Brooke? She’s awesome. And she’s smart. And she took History of Sports last semester, so we might actually have a chance of winning this week.
Maggie: She’s just so negative.
Emily: She’s just so negative?
Maggie: She’s just so negative. (at Emily’s look) What?
Emily: I just think you two have a lot in common and she would make a great addition to our group of friends which right now is just the two of us. Just give her a chance.

Maggie sighs.

Emily: Think of the gift card. Think of the fried pickle chips. You love fried pickle chips.

Maggie does love fried pickle chips. But she hates Brooke more than she likes fried pickle chips.

Maggie: Maybe I should just stay home. I have a lot of homework to do. I have to write a paper on Appalachian English, and I haven’t even organized my notes, much less made an outline.
Emily: But you have notes. You spent all night yesterday getting notes. That’s probably more than what most people have.

Emily gets a text message.

Emily: Oh, it’s Brooke. She apologizes for running late (Brooke is not running late and Emily’s reading of the line should indicate that) and she’ll be here in just a few minutes. Cool. (I’ll) Grab your coat, lady?
Maggie: No. I don’t want to go.

Emily is not pleased. Maggie is in the wrong here. She is being immature. But Maggie is afraid of change, and Emily is too happy-go-lucky to confront her.

Emily: I’ll cover for you. But I’m not always going to be able to save you.
Maggie: I know.

Brooke enters, looking stressed and afraid.

Emily: Brooke! Hey, bad news… (sees Brooke’s face) What’s wrong?
Brooke: I just got mugged.
Emily: Oh my god, what happened?
Brooke: This is the second time this week. I think it was the same people, too.
Emily: Oh my god, are you okay?
Maggie: It was the same people?
Brooke: I was just walking to your building to pick you up and they just jumped out of nowhere and she kinda (pretend slaps Emily)and then he grabbed my purse!
Maggie: Did you get a good look at them? Did you call the police?
Brooke: What would be the point? If I reported it, they wouldn’t try to find them. It’s bad publicity if a crime happens on campus so the college would just suppress the report and it wouldn’t go anywhere and I’m just a college kid anyway, I only had like $43 on my card. How am I going to buy a new ID? Do replacement driver’s licenses cost money?
Emily (to Maggie, who actually has a driver’s license, just not a car): Do they cost money?
Maggie: Are you from out of state?
Brooke: Yes! I wish my parents were here. No I don’t, they would yell at me for being so stupid as to get mugged. I’m never going to see that money again. I don’t want to go anywhere ever again. I hate everything.
Emily: We don’t have to go anywhere. We can just order in. We’ll order a pizza. Maggie’s treat.

Maggie glares at Emily.

Brooke: Even my own friends pity me! I am just a failure at life.

Maggie’s glare intensifies.

Emily: Who would win in a fight, a shark or a bear?
Brooke: Who cares? Life is meaningless.

Ghost hunters: early Christmas edition   1 comment

Eva flicked the lightswitch. Nothing happened. She frowned and clicked it again, several times. “No electricity, like they said.”

“That’s why we brought flashlights,” Claire said.

They scanned their flashlights around the church corridor. The wreaths and tinsel lining the doors and walls made the whole place shimmer. They walked carefully, taking care with each step, as if the floor might crumble beneath them.

“This place is creepy,” Andy said.

“They always are, when it’s not mass,” said Eva. “I’ve been to a lot of churches at weird times, they always feel weird.”

“Weird how?” Claire asked.

“I don’t know,” Eva said. “It’s indescribable. You get scared to touch things.”

There seemed to be nothing to add to that. They plodded forward in silence. They reached a door. The reflections of the light against the glass panes and the tinselly wreath made Eva and Andy wince. Claire simply opened the door and led the way through. They found themselves at the intersection of another hallway, this one with several doors. It appeared to be of newer construction than the area they had left behind. The door shut behind them. They stood where they were.

“Where’s the sanctuary?” Andy asked. Then, after a moment of no response, she asked, “Where’s the breaker box? We should find the breaker box, right? That seems to be the best response to a power outage, right? Someone answer me. This place is creepy.”

Eva looked at Claire, who was thinking hard.

“No seriously, someone make a sound,” Andy said. “I am seriously creeped out.”

Eva’s flashlight hit a homemade-looking tapestry, which depicted an angel hovering over the Holy Family. There seemed to be a fair amount of glitter over the whole thing. Beneath the manger were the words O Holy Night.

Eva began to sing.

O Holy Night, the stars are brightly shining
It is the night of our dear Savior’s birth
Long lay the world in sin and e’er pining
‘Til he appeared and the soul felt its worth
A thrill of hope, a weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn

She sucked in a breath, and then belted it out.

FAAAAAAALL

The hallway suddenly seemed lighter than it had been. Andy looked at Claire, who had clearly noticed. She was looking all around. Andy looked around as well, but had no idea what Claire was looking for.

On your knees
Oh hear the angel voices

Claire and Andy looked straight at each other, as they realized, suddenly, that Eva was not the only one singing. They looked at Eva, but Eva’s eyes were closed, focused on singing.

Oh night divine!
Oh night when Christ was born
Oh niiiiiight

The hallway wasn’t evenly lit; it seemed to shimmer with all sorts of different lights, all around them. Claire frowned at them, but Andy was fairly enchanted with the scene.

DiVIIIIIIIINE

Eva not only hit the note, but almost seemed to dance with it, play with it. Her voice was absolutely gorgeous, completely like nothing Claire and Andy had ever heard. Claire stared at her. Andy grinned, living completely in the moment. She could hear the other voices, too, humming in background to Eva. It was absolutely lovely.

Eva ended the song quietly. The lights began fading.

Oh night, oh night divine

The song ended, and the lights went away with her. Eva opened her eyes and winced at Claire’s flashlight pointed at her face.

“Do that again,” Claire said.

“That was amazing,” Andy said.

“How do you feel?” Claire asked.

Eva shrugged. “My throat hurts a bit. I shouldn’t have hit that high note without warming up a bit.”

“You sounded great,” said Andy. Eva smiled a bit.

“Sing again,” Claire said. “Please.”

“Yes, please,” Andy said.

Eva shrugged and sang the first song that came to mind.

God rest ye merry, gentlemen, let nothing you dismay
Remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas-

“No, no, something pretty,” Claire said.

Claire,” Andy hissed.

Here we are a-wassailing among the leaves so-

“Something pretty,” Claire said.

“That is pretty,” Eva said.

“Claire, let her sing what she wants,” Andy said.

Eva simply smiled. Claire stared at her. Normally Eva would be completely embarrassed about being the center of attention. She would fuss and shrug and avoid giving any opinion at all. This was the happiest she had ever Eva. She actually was rather pretty when she smiled. And that voice…

Something was very wrong.

“Try again,” Claire said.

Angels we have heard on high
Sweetly singing o’er the plains
And the mountains in reply
Echoing their joyous strains

But Eva stopped. She looked around in the dim light of the flashlights. Andy and Claire looked around, but saw nothing.

Silent night, holy night

The hallway began to glow again.

All is calm, all is bright

The light broke into a thousand different lights all around, and they all seemed to have voices behind them. Andy had to admit that it was sort of creepy, now that she knew it was — supernatural? She looked at Claire, who was again staring at Eva.

Roun’ yon virgin, mother and child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peeeeaaaaace

The room was suddenly dark, lit only by their flashlights. Eva finished the last line alone.

Sleeeeeeep in heavenly peace

The ceiling lights flickered and then turned on all the way. Somewhere far away, the building’s heating unit hummed to life.

“They’re gone,” Eva grinned. “I did it again.”

“Yes,” said Claire. “That voice — it was unearthly.”

“Thank you,” Eva smiled.

Her smiled faded as Claire gave her a searching look.

“Your throat doesn’t hurt? You feel fine?”

“A little lightheaded, a little sore,” Eva said, touching her throat. “Nothing unusual. I feel less lightheaded now.” She seemed to be shrinking back into her usual self.

“Do you sing a lot?” Claire asked. “I’ve never heard you sing.”

“You should sing more,” Andy said.

“I used to,” Eva said, shrugging. “Maybe we should go outside?”

“Yes,” Claire said. “Yes, let’s go outside.”

Claire led the way out, walking in brisk, hurried steps. Andy was able to keep up easily, but Eva had to jog to keep up with her. Down the hallway, through the coffee hall, and out the back door. The Church leaders were keeping warm in the minivan of the youth minister. Andy started to walk towards the minivan, but Claire walked towards the parking lot’s entrance/exit. Andy waved at the church leaders and followed Claire and Eva. The minivan was shut off, and the church leaders began leaving the minivan.

The three girls crossed the street and in stood front of a house.

“Sing Oh Holy Night,” Claire said to Eva.

“What’s going on?” Andy asked.

Claire looked at Eva, eyebrows up, waiting for her to sing. Eva was slumped over, looking through her bangs between Andy and Claire. She looked more like herself than she had in the church.

“You can’t just order her around,” Andy said. “What is going on? What the — what are you doing? What do you expect to happen?”

“Have you always been that good at singing?” Claire asked.

“Yeah,” said Eva. It was a simple statement. It was a fact.

Always?

“Claire,” Andy said.

“Well I guess technically I haven’t always had a good voice,” Eva said. “My music teacher in elementary school said that I had perfect pitch, so I started voice lessons when I was in third grade. I stopped taking lessons when…” She shrugged.

Andy, knowing very little of Eva’s history, wondered what the end of the sentence was. She looked at Claire, who was staring at Eva. She looked at Eva, who was staring at the ground.

“When what?” Andy asked.

“What’s going on?” the pastor asked. “We saw the lights come back on. We were hoping you would have a report for us. Did you see any ghosts?”

“Oh, yes,” Andy said. “It was pretty cool, actually.”

“Eva,” Claire said, “Will you please sing O Holy Night for us?”

Eva sighed.

O Holy night, the stars are brightly shining
It is the night of our dear Savior’s birth
Long lay the world in sin and e’er pining
‘Til he appeared and the soul felt its worth

A window opened in the house they were standing in front of. Andy watched to see if someone would complain about the noise, but heard nothing. Eva’s voice was beautiful still.

A thrill of hope, a weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn

FAAAAAAAAAALLL on your knees
Oh hear the angel voices
Oh night, when Christ was born
Oh night DIVIIIIIIIINE

Again, Eva hit the high note perfectly.

Oh night divine

The church leaders applauded. Andy heard an applause from the open window. Once again, Eva’s voice had been absolutely outstanding. Eva smiled and curtsied a bit. Only Claire was frowning.

“Oh, Eva,” she said. “You didn’t come back quite right, did you?”

Posted November 4, 2014 by agentksilver in writing

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The Adventures of Pizza Boy and Maggie: how I might end the play   Leave a comment

But Valedictorian manages to slip away. She runs away — nearly exits the stage — but runs into Emily, who is just entering. Valedictorian and Emily fall to the floor, both shouting in pain and trying to keep the other down. Maggie joins the fray, giving instructions to Emily, and somehow they all emerge with Maggie and Emily holding Valedictorian up by the shoulders and legs.

Valedictorian: Unhand me! (She continues to struggle, but Maggie and Emily are able to handle it)
Emily: So, do you get paid by the pizza company, or by the city government? I just feel uncomfortable with the idea of a private employee doing a public service.

Maggie and Emily both laugh.

Emily: I’m sorry I yelled at you.
Maggie: I’m sorry I lied to you.
Emily: Friends again?
Maggie: Friends ’til the end.

They start exiting, carrying Valedictorian offstage.

Emily: Birth to earth.
Maggie: Womb to tomb.
Emily: Sisters from another mister.
Maggie: Sisters from another hyster.
Emily: Haha!

Fin.

World Building   Leave a comment

“So let me get this straight,” said Eva. “You accept the concept of faster-than-light travel without affecting people’s relative ages, but you don’t get that our energies live outside of our bodies?”

“But where does it go?” Matt threw his arms into the air, pacing back and forth from one end of the study to the other end. “Where does it go, once our bodies die? Is it just everywhere? Am I walking through dead people right now?” He waved and slapped his fingers together, as if trying to grab something with them.

“No!” said Claire. “Only some people.”

“Then what,” Matt said. His pacing increased; he began walking in circles around the whole room. “If the Law of Conservation of Energy holds true, then that energy is being used somewhere. Where does it go?

“The Afterlife,” Claire scoffed.

“Where is the Afterlife?” Matt asked. Eva stepped out from the doorway and put a hand on his arm, but Matt kept walking.

“It’s…it’s somewhere else,” Claire shrugged, and looked at Andy. Andy looked back at her, arms in her lap, listening patiently. She was not going to be any help. “Most people go there, but some people stay here. That’s all.”

“No, that’s not all,” Matt said. “What is the Afterlife? Why would all that energy need to be collected? Where does the energy go?”

“He has a point,” Andy said.

Claire glared at her. “It’s another point of existence. Another dimension, maybe.”

Perhaps Claire thought that the word dimension would ease him. But Matt was not through.

“Maybe? Maybe?” Matt stood in front of the window; his whole front was dark and unreadable. “If you’re the experts, why can’t you tell me? Shouldn’t you know?”

In the doorway, Eva cried quietly.

Posted September 22, 2014 by agentksilver in Personal

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Ghost Hunters: pt 1/?   1 comment

The last job Claire and Eva worked before Labor Day was at a little farmhouse out in the country. Claire explained that it wasn’t the real real country, the house was only ten minutes from the county seat, but nevertheless the whole place had a very country feel. The house, with peeling paint and holes in the roof, was situated in a two-acre plot of land, marked on all sides by trees. You couldn’t see it from the road, which made it ideal for teenagers to explore and hide in.

“A hive of teenagers,” a cop sniffed.

The land surrounding the house was all grassland, overgrown. The previous occupants had laid down heavy gravel to the three-car garage; otherwise the grass would have prevented penetration by car. Claire and Eva hid their car behind the garage. A car meant adulthood. Adulthood meant legitimacy. They couldn’t appear legitimate, not here.

The house had, at that point, been abandoned by seven years. The owners had foreclosed on the house, had moved on to a small apartment closer to the county seat, where they had managed to find jobs. They were safe. The bank had been unable to sell the house, unable to mow the grass, unable to do repairs. The teenagers claimed the house was haunted. After seven years, the bank was inclined to agree.

Claire and Eva made their move on a Friday night in the last days of summer, when teenagers would feel the impending doom of September and act out, leave their homes, try to capture the last of the summer stars and the freedom of being young and broke. Claire was 23 and Eva nearly 21, but they still looked fairly young. They could mingle with the teenagers and lie about their age. It was better if they lied. Eva claimed 16 and Claire claimed 17. Eva’s hair was jagged and short, too short and too long to look cute; it was awkward and in her eyes. Combined with her cheeks, she could pass for 16, especially in the dark flashlight and candlelight they and the teenagers brought. Claire didn’t look 17, not even in the dark, with her long, confident limbs, neat hair, and wise face. Still, the teenagers accepted her as one of their own; lots of teenagers looked like they were in their early 20s. Perhaps Claire could get them beer later.

Claire and Eva sat with the teenagers and listened to their rituals. There was beer there. Eva was panicked slightly; they were adults and there was teenagers drinking beer. Claire and Eva had decided that the blatant illegality of the whole situation would make it more likely that their plan would succeed. Claire even assured her that her panic made the situation even better. Still, there were cops out there.

The cops had found them, the five teenagers, Claire, and Eva, sitting in the living room doing rituals. Some of it had been show-offish stuff with the candles. There was Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board. There was a telephone squeeze game. Claire had even performed a séance (entirely fake, of course). Some of the boys scared the others, pretending to be ghosts, banging the walls and breathing on girls. But finally the cops arrived, in the dark of night.

The teenagers, being teenagers, were driven back home by a pair of the cops. Only two cops remained to interrogate Claire and Eva, who were adults after all.

“Trespassing,” said the cops.

They actually had legal permission, but Claire and Eva kept tight-lipped. They were in real trouble now. Soon it would start.

“Purchasing alcohol for underaged minors,” the cops said.

“Are there any other kind of minors?” Claire asked.

Eva glared at Claire.

“We are going to arrest you,” the cops said.

“You can’t do that,” Eva said, sounding resigned but trying to sound firm. “We pay your salaries.” The cops, predictably, looked annoyed at the comment.

“We weren’t doing any harm,” Claire added. “This old house is so broken down anyway. No one even owns the place.” Claire had been doing this longer.

“Yeah,” Eva said. “Don’t you guys have robbers and murderers to apprehend?”

The two cops began reaching for their handcuffs. The two young women exchanged glances; this was getting serious, and more importantly, it wasn’t working.

Eva grabbed at her necklace, hidden beneath her shirt. The cops jumped a little at the movement. Eva was easily able to unclip the necklace. It was a cheap necklace she had bought for $2.99 eight months ago, but it was the most handy tool in her arsenal. She held it out at arms-length, away from Claire and the cops.

“Oh no,” said Eva. “This necklace was my grandmother’s. My mother gave it to me when my gramma died. I don’t want to lose it!”

The cops stared at her.

Eva felt a pull on the necklace. Her mouth tightened with effort as she pulled back. The necklace dug into her hand. She leaned back, trying to pull them, hell, trying to keep her ground. If the ghosts pulled her towards them, who knew where she would end up?

Claire gasped. There were two ghosts, flickering in and out of her sight; not one, as they had originally thought. She ransacked her brain, trying to come up with some advice for Eva, but her mind pulled up a blank. It was Repellers who handled these jobs, and there were no hard rules for Repelling. Attractors could find ghosts. Attractors were sought out by ghosts. Repellers “only” got rid of ghosts.

Oh. There was one thing she could do.

“There’s two of them!” she shouted.

“What is going on?” one of the cops asked. Claire spared them a glance; their shoulders were wide, they were looking around in all directions. It occurred to her, then, that the lights were flickering. The candles had been blown out, of course, but the flashlights were going off and on. The headlights beaming in from outside were flickering as well.

“It’s working!” Claire shouted. She didn’t know why she was shouting; technically there was no noise. But she could feel noise, in her head, the droning and humming of mundane existence rubbing against the pocket of spirituality of the house. The proximity to the rub – just a few feet away, inches from Eva’s clenching fists – drove her to near-deafness. She rubbed her ears and shouted to the cops, “We have it under control, don’t worry!” She rubbed her temple next. She rubbed the top of her head. It was inside, trying to get out.

Eva considered moving her foot, pulling back and trying to gain harder ground behind her, farther away from the source. But there would be a moment of weakness, before she gained her ground, when she would be at her most weak. It also occurred to her that the pulling wasn’t doing anything except keeping them in one place.

Claire was shouting, which meant that they were almost there. They were so close to get rid of these guys. What, exactly, did they know about these guys, except that they always did the opposite of what anyone wanted (taking out lawnmowers, breaking hammers, drying paint in the can)? But they were doing exactly what Eva wanted. They were where she wanted them to be.

Perhaps they wanted only what they couldn’t have.

Eva held out one of her hands, where another random tool sat on her ring finger, waiting to be used. A $10 ring, found at the same place she found the necklace. Cheapo and made for teenage girls who thought wearing dark clothing made them rebels.

“I hate this ring,” Eva said. “But it’s mine.”

The ghosts swarmed her hand, swirling and rubbing her hand; it was like a hundred hand dryers set at “cool” were covering her hand at once. It was hard to keep her hand still, especially since they dropped the pressure on her necklace. But they had imbued the necklace with their esoterica now. Eva draped the necklace over her hand, then twisted it and wrapped it around her hand again. In the corner of her eye, she saw Claire begin to shake; a cop grabbed her before she fell. Eva again twisted the necklace and made another loop over her hand. She did it four more times, until there were seven loops on her hand.

Everything suddenly became still. Even the cops noticed it. Eva could hear ringing in her ears. Claire slowly stiffened and straightened in the cop’s arms. She gasped something, cleared her throat, and repeated, “Seven.”

Eva nodded. The ringing was overpowering; she wasn’t sure she would be normal for a while.

“They’re gone?” Eva whispered.

“Oh, yes,” Claire said.

Posted September 15, 2014 by agentksilver in Uncategorized

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