Part VIII That should have ended it. I'd never found her in the dreams, after all. This was the resolution that I'd been pushed to since I was about the age she was. Or had been. Who knows what tense to use when you're dealing with ghosts? If she was a ghost. She was solid, [...]
Heat and sweat.
That was the sum total of summers at Gravestone Hill.
Thankfully, Kevin had no shortage of cars, and trucks, and trains to keep him busy. Video games were fun, too. But most days he stayed inside, cooling off while books transported him to a universe of dragons and fairies and knights in shining armour.
It was a pity people didn’t need knights anymore. He had a good feeling he would have grown up to be a dashing young lad, on his fine black steed. He would have named him Midnight, and brushed him so he shone when the sun was high and the moon was bright.
Mother was always good for distraction as well. She was a library on legs with lips to share her tales. There was no bit of history she didn’t know – or couldn’t fabricate.
Still, it wasn’t enough. “When can we get…
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It was happening again.
That familiar, faint feeling gripped me in the knees and shoved me to the floor. I didn’t try to get up. Instead, I pulled my legs up to my chest and hugged them tightly.
Outside, the summer sun blazed relentlessly. Yet the lighting in the room dipped and brightened like a lonely flame, struggling by an open window. I shuddered. A chill had come in and crept up my spine with icy fingers.
A room away, my mother prepared a delicious meal I would have no appetite for tonight. It smelled like steamed fish and vegetables, with rice and beans cooked in coconut milk – my favourite.
The clinks and clangs of the knife on the cutting board, and the spoon in the pot, cut loudly into the stunning silence. My mother noticed it, too. It was far too quiet for a six year old tom…
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