Between (Adventures With The Undead): Not Dead Yet

As I approach the door to my house those two officials, well, official looking people are standing there, again I think. He’s telling her how ridiculous it is to be afraid to enter and she keeps saying, “Ok then you go”, but no one moves. Funny. She nudges him, he stands glued to his spot and says it’s like there’s a force field preventing him from moving forward. She’s not admitting anything. Maybe she feels it too. All I can think is they’re both ridiculous as I pass between them and unlock the door. Now she goes on about hearing something but neither of them saw anything, not spook, specter nor a woman with peeling skin entering her house with groceries, nothing.


Funny how I can eat but I can’t remember the last time I went to the bathroom. I stand in front of the mirror to change but nothing’s flapping off with the clothes. Guess I shook off enough with the walk. Those strong winds I couldn’t feel blew away the debris of me. The dress looks nice and covers up a lot. My funeral shroud maybe? Haven’t had one of those that I can remember. Maybe that’s what’s wrong. I don’t sleep so it’s not like something will suddenly come to mind that will trigger something else in my dreams. Maybe I’m not dead and someone needs to find me. Maybe someone needs to come into the house. Oh yeah, according to those two there’s a force field. Is my presence here that ominous? Ha! I’d never have thought of myself in those terms before. Can’t say I don’t have a presence. Is being here telling others to look somewhere else.

Does that make sense?

In this realm who knows. Get a load of me… realm.


Cell Phones Not Allowed

She thought she’d sneak a peek hiding her cell phone under her blouse. Quiet as a church mouse she pulled her arms inside the sleeves, and tucked her chin so her v-neck touched her forehead figuring she could feign sleep, but the volume though turned down still made a notable enough sound. Suppressing a grin the Room Monitor focused in her direction thinking, “OK. A church mouse it is.”

Unaware and absorbed in her movie she began to laugh, but her voice dropped off in a squeak. She looked around; satin draped and surrounded as she landed on her phone balancing on all four feet. The phone dropped meeting the floor with a slap. Jumping up alarmed, “where is this falling from, am I dreaming” she thought. Unable to grab the fabric and pull it from her head she scurried out from underneath what she thought had to be an unraveling bolt. Her chair was so high; the Monitor, normally a couple inches shorter than she was a giant, “what’s she smiling at? Aaaam I asleep?” Her tiny heart pounded faster than it ever had. The Monitor scooped her up ever gently placing her in a conjured maze. A few more came in. “Oh look at the mouse. Is it yours?” Each student wanted to touch it that it didn’t like at all. “Why won’t it move… huh, whadaya know… poor thing. Hey someone left their stuff behind. Strange.” “Don’t worry, leave it be. She’ll be back.” They shrugged and chose other seats.

Forty minutes later all left for the day. The Monitor took the befuddled mouse placing it back on her pile of clothes. She woke in her chair, she thought, after a horrible dream. “It’s time to leave. You were asleep but you know cell phones are not an option during detention. Here, it slipped from your hand,” and she gave it back. “A good movie I’ll say that much. I might have put it on for both of us to watch since it’s your last day and up until this last decision you’d done so well. You were quiet as a church mouse about getting situated but the phone wasn’t.”

“A church mouse?” She looked into the Monitor’s eyes startled then quickly averted, “I’m sorry Ma’am” was all she could say as she scurried passed. “I don’t usually walk this fast…” her thoughts trailed. “It’ll wear off soon enough”, the Monitor thought, “though tonight you’ll be craving cheese.” The lights turned themselves out as she locked the door.

All in a day’s work, there is no more.


They knew their teacher wouldn’t be there today. What they’d wind up with was another story. Subs weren’t what they used to be, not that they’d been around all that long but long enough to know something wasn’t right with the young ones who spent more time on their cell phones than they did talking to the class.

Stay tuned.

The eight of them were gathered outside the classroom door. Locked! Up the stairs she came. “Don’t tell me they’ve locked us out” she began to say when one blurted, “we’ve got the witch!” She looked at him but he was happy, and had excitedly thrown his hands in the air in celebration. “Witch! Because I have curly hair! Witch!” She turned to see who she could find with a key as a monitor reached the top of the stair and let them in. “I didn’t mean anything. I wasn’t talking about you” the boy had nervously sputtered. “You didn’t say anything until you saw me.” She wasn’t about to let him off the hook.

They all got situated. “Come up front and sign this sheet. We’ll use it for attendance. You know,” she said as they gathered round the desk, if I were a witch I’d have turned you into a frog by now and wouldn’t turn you back until you’d caught an insect with your tongue and swallowed it.” “I ain’t eatin’ no bugs’ he nervously replied to everyones’ laughter, his eyes darting around the room. “Einstein had hair like this. Wouldn’t you be better off saying ‘hey it’s that teacher with the crazy Einstein hair’?”

The others went back to their seats smiling but he hadn’t replied, distracted by a partially webbed fly on the windowsill.

World Without End

Read The Instructions it’d said somewhere. The last time was a disaster so she read. “Not from memory this time” to herself she said.

“Sage, rosemary, wormwood and belladonna, crush together, over the body spread. Pierce eyelids with a fine needle, not all the way through, just a prick. Chant for five minutes, but no more than six and dead he will no longer be.”

“We’ll just see” she muttered as she followed it through.

Up he rose. The first moment she knew when he put on an apron and began to clean.

“He’s not himself.”

Her smile beamed.


Your prompt this week it is:


Silent Through Fall Leaves

     The first time Jill’s, well, let’s call them abilities, began showing themselves was around 3 years old. She’d knocked colored pencils from her mom’s desk. “Jill”, mom called, “Jill are you ok?” But by the time she’d reached the room there was nothing to see. When Jill’d heard her mom’s footsteps she’d mustered a “no” that sent pencils back into their caddy that went back onto the desk. Her mom looked around, “Did you bump something punkin’? Did you say no? No is your first word, and a woman too. Oh boy. Here, come to the balcony with mommy.” Jill didn’t realize fully what’d happened because, maybe, this is the way people made stuff better. After that if she’d spill milk or knock a plate on the floor, by saying “no” Jill could reverse what had happened except when her mother was right there; it wasn’t necessary seeing mom took care of it. Luckily Jill didn’t make a connection with the damage she could do. It wasn’t in her nature in any case; she was one of the good ones.

When she was around 8 her mom had a spring-cleaning mishap causing bookshelves to topple onto her. Jill came running but her mom pushed her back so she wouldn’t get hurt managing to get herself pinned, not seriously, but she wasn’t sure if now was the time to let her daughter see what mom was capable of. “Go get Mrs. Tuturroni next door. She’ll help lift it.” At the same time Jill’d brought her hands to her mouth in alarm and said, “Get off her!” Up went the shelves and all that was on them back in place. She nervously looked at her mom who smiled up at her. “Well, that’s my girl. Here, help me up. I’m OK though I’m going to feel that. I’ll bet this isn’t the first time.” “Mom?” She wasn’t sure if she should smile back or panic. They held on to each other on the way to the bathroom to check out the bruise situation then went into the kitchen for something hot to drink, possibly toast though cookies would be better, and a nice long talk.


“It doesn’t seem so long ago. I miss you mom.” At 70, Jill was spry as if she were still 21. Her mom’d passed only 2 months ago at the ripe old age of 105, well, not exactly passed away, “We have longevity on our side but not long enough” she thought to herself. In the local paper “Get The Skinny”, the obituary read Jill’s mom’d died peacefully in her sleep but in reality she’d moved on. Several including Jill were present as she was surrounded by fall leaves supposedly symbolic of her human stage of life, and then vanished, became the leaves and vanished… something like that. The leaves scattered, floating to the ground as if a breeze had blown them from the trees and her mom was gone.

“Do we know if she actually went anywhere? Is that where the idea came from for Oogway in Kung Fu Panda?”

Krista her mom’s youngest sister laughed. “We’re legion – you never know.”


“Yes, there’re a lot of us around. That might have been based on tradition, who knows, maybe one of us was thinking too loud one day and a director picked up on it. Seriously, she’ll be with you always, but you’ll feel her strongest when you use your gifts, you know, when you’re yourself.”

“Well, yeah, that makes sense. We used them together most times.”

As far as the locals knew there’d been a closed casket and only immediate family were permitted at the cemetery, which was accepted as another one of those private family tradition things. Looking out over the balcony from her home built over 2 centuries ago, Jill felt mom’s presence as if she were sitting there like they’d done so many mornings together, listening, sensing, both overseers of a small town unaware it was being looked after. They had prevented catastrophes, fixed mistakes, averted accidents.

“How interesting people are” she thought. “How they rationalize what they’re not sure they saw or when they don’t fully understand what happened.”

Her mind drifted to her 21st birthday. “Why do signs say not to change lanes on a bridge” her boyfriend’d said, “look at all this room”, as he swerved from lane to lane crossing the Pequot Bridge on the way to a movie, then blew a tire, didn’t see that coming, and would have plunged into the rapids below if she hadn’t stopped it. She’d instinctively grabbed the dash with one hand and the door with the other and’d shouted “No!”

Of course he didn’t get it.

“Don’t worry! I’ve got it!”


The car jerked forward, straightened-scraped the railing knocked itself into a 360 and back to the right hand lane coming to a complete stop. Charlie thought he’d recovered the vehicle and saved them thanks to his driving skills and lightening reflexes. He broke up with Jill some months later to go to L.A. and become a stunt driver. She chuckled to herself. He’d wound up becoming part of a pit crew, which would hopefully keep him alive longer. When she was around 50 she and her mom prevented a fire from consuming the local bank that was caused by one of its managers and a robbery attempt that went awry. “Definitely backfired.” The woman babbled she could have sworn there had been flames as the police pulled her from the smoke-filled building. Nothing had been burned but she’d be responsible for damages, the least of her worries along with theft. Jill and her mom certainly had had a full, fruitful life together. She thought of her own daughter who’d settled in a small town in Bulgaria. Camille had studied at an art academy there and decided to stay. Although she hadn’t made it back for her grandmother’s funeral, she was coming back to stay for a couple of months to get the house organized so Jill could return with her. “The town will have to go on without you for a bit. Some days you just need your Ma.” How well Jill knew that.

She looked at the town below. “Well Mom, is there anything we can help anyone with today?” She exhaled and closed her eyes and felt warmth on her shoulders as if an arm had been put around them. She stilled completely and listened.



I went to the Farmer’s Market, something I didn’t do so much when I was alive but now I don’t have to pay. I enjoy the best. Nice not to have to worry about budget. There are lots of apples, have been for a couple of weeks if its been that long, so I’m guessing it’s fall. Several people are wearing heavy sweaters – must be a cooler day. As I walk skin flakes off leaving a trail like breadcrumbs but I don’t think anyone knows one way or the other. I can tell a heavy breeze, not a gentle one, is blowing leaves around by the way everyone’s hair is tussled, everyone’s jackets, dresses and scarves fly. My hair stays perfectly still for a change, big curly hair, my crazy unruly stuff for my whole life now lies perfect. Death has its perks if only my skin would stop peeling off. Be nice if it’d grow back.

I find honey-crisp apples. Always loved these. Take several then move on to honey, speaking of which, and grab a larger squeeze bottle. A couple of stands down someone’s offering handcrafted earrings looks like silver with coral, jade and turquoise. I pick out a couple pair wondering if my earlobes will give way. They haven’t yet. Do I want anything else? Long dresses becoming trendy, not that it matters but I’ve always liked them so I grab a couple. Might just cover up my dilemma, for who to see I don’t know if only me when I look into the mirror I won’t see the flesh I’ve lost. This is turning out to be quite a day. Shame no one sells boots.

Speaking of no one I get not a glance. Does anyone notice a bag floating around on its own or are folks just being polite as if I were a leper and looking the other way for the sake of my privacy? Would they run from a leper these days? Think I might stop by that Chinese Buffet and get dinner, no, maybe just the market to get sushi. The guy who’s behind the counter was there when I was alive and makes the best then again I could just help myself at the fish counter. Always loved fish. Yeah, fish it is. Sea Bass, only the best.

Create a free website or blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: