I’d never been to a medium, always believed they were conmen. No one can really speak to the dead, right? But when he came to town, something drew me there.
Perhaps the recentness of my loss, or the things left unsaid. But something, and when the seance began I couldn’t look away.
The set was corny, too Hollywood for what he claimed to do, but something about him stood out, something powerful. Connected.
“There’s a presence in the room,” he said, “from beyond. A spirit needing closure.”
Then he stared up where I hovered above him.
“Spirit, what’s your name?”
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Labels: 100 words, Drabble, Ghost, Ghost Whisperer, Seance, Short story
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