All this glass

She's got all this glass laying around. There's still a damp spot on the couch from Alan's sweat. She's the only one left in the apartment and her mark is as dark as ever. Plus she's got all this glass laying around. What would you do?

I reckon you'd go home to your daddy.

So there's all this glass laying around, and some sand, and she's spilling saltwater everywhere as she repeats a mantra into meaninglessness.

I'm not one of them not me I'm not one...

But Alan is gone and she's pretty sure he's one of them, which weakens her own case considerably. And she's got a mark on her hand, and all this glass laying around.

Things go on in this vein long past sunset, when the street lamps turn on outside her window and make all that glass glitter and sing. And she keeps bringing her heavy eyes back to her wrists and studying the spiderwebs there and contemplating all the rushing fluid in that river.

So she picks up a piece of glass. There is so much of it just laying around and singing.

Nica is not religious. She's not sure if Judas killed himself, or if perhaps he invested his silver in Google stock and lived a long and prosperous life. This is what runs through her head, though, as she takes the glass to the spiderwebs and pours the river out onto the carpet.

Not me not me I guess we'll see...

So there is all this glass laying around, and sand, and saltwater, and all these beautiful rubies, and a woman lying on top of it all whispering something about bad timing.

What did Daddy say? That you can only run out of breath. Right.

And she does.

 

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Going for a walk

"You're free, Kemp. I'm taking the glass from your hand."

He's not sure if he should feel relief. How unfair is that? How cruel is it to get a stay of execution, while Alan is led out of the apartment by the strange and crippled Albert?

But he does feel relief, a flood of it, drowning everything else. He can't even bring himself to curse and spit at Nica. Instead, he waits until the men's backs are far down the street, then walks out wordlessly.

Then there is only Nica, with a hand full of glass and a bowl full of sand.

 

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Party Line

Calling home, with speaker phone on both ends, I can't tell one voice from another. I think it's Andy who asks about the food up here.

"The tomatoes fucking suck." I say. "So does the salsa."

I start to say something about potatoes, but her two-year-old cuts me off with a blood-curdling scream.

There's a voice I don't recognize. "Everything changes."

Is her mom there? Did I just say fuck in front of her mom?

"Ms. Patton?"

"That's my maiden name, honey," says Andy. No one else responds.

"Sorry, I thought I heard your mom or someone."

The conversation continues in its confusing stereo until I hear someone whisper, "It all goes to shit."

"Well, someone's feeling cynical."

"Huh?"

"Who's talking about everything going to shit?"

"Girl, you are losing your mind."

Indeed.

I leave the room and let my husband do the talking. I'm reaching into the fridge for a bottle of water when I smell burning hair.

"HALLELUJAH!" screams the space behind me. "HERE I COME!"

"Gah!"

(Yes, I sound like an idiot when I scream. My ohmigoditsaroach scream is more convincing.)

Static fills my ears and I am certain something is coming up from behind to get me. Then Stewart hangs up the phone.

Breaks the connection.

It's on your end, Andy. There's something in your house.

 

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Drink of it

Nica imagines herself making an omelet. Breaking a few eggs and all that.

She taps an hourglass against the side of her bowl until it cracks. She reaches her fingertips into the glass, pulling it open, pouring sand into the Tupperware. Take this and eat of it, this is my body.

The splinters dig into her skin. Drops of red on the sand. Take this and drink of it, this is my blood.

Whose blood? No, not hers.

She opens her eyes, walks to Alan, and quiets him. "You go with Albert now, baby. Everything's gonna be OK."

Judas and Pilate take communion together. No one else could possibly understand.

 

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Mailbox

Apparently, I'm considered a "paranormal news outlet." This fills my email inbox with all sorts of interesting press releases and promotions.

Crystal Stephens of Electric Artists writes to tell us that the new A&E show, Paranormal State, will premier on December 10th at 10 PM ET. They'll air two cases back to back, featuring a young boy whose story is similar to "The Sixth Sense" and a single mom whose home is haunted by a history of brutal murder.

David M Kriegher writes to announce his website Dark Stories, a collection of true and truish ghost stories presented in both French and English.

Thanks for sending in your paranormal stories. I apologize if your event passed before I got around to sharing it here.

For frequently-updated and all-encompassing paranormal news, try the Debris Field. Lesley has this news outlet thing down.

 

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