World Without End 2: White Wine For You


 

What else can I make him do? She thought about it as she watched him go from cleaning to making coffee, something he wouldn’t touch when he was alive. Always something she had to do for him, such a sin more than housework making it really a surprise. When he’d finished he turned and faced her saying not a word. “Was he focusing?”

She went to pour herself a cup. He stood still eyes not moving as she passed him. “Guess not.” She watched. It was the first time she’d tried the spell and thought that so far it’d turned out well.

No laundry to do, cleaning’s done, coffee was a treat, what else? “Those leaves” she thought. “Francis can you take care of those leaves outside? Bag them up and stack them at the curve?” He turned to her. “My name is Francis.” “Yes, you remember?” “I’m dead?” She couldn’t resist, “Still are.”

She watched him walk into the yard. “He almost looks worried” fleeted through her mind.

She watched him from the window as he cleaned the entire yard up. Were those tears rolling down his cheeks? He’d never cried, never.

As he stacked full bags on the curb she went outside to see. He stood back to look over what he’d done, a trait from when he was alive, always admiring his own work. He kept backing into the road. Her house located on a bend sharp as an elbow.

 

She ran toward him calling and waving her arms. He looked up at her and grinned. “He was figuring it out, no way!” A truck hit him full on as he burst into leaves filling the street dissipating before they could land. The bags he’d filled still there.

“Son of a gun” was her only thought as she watched the truck not even tap the brakes but drive away. Did he beep? Who was driving? She hadn’t seen.

 

 

“He turned ‘to leaves?” Her friend Rachel asked. “Yeah, that was surprise.” Naomi did say. “I put more sage than it asked and cut belladonna in half. Added pinches of rosemary as it stewed.” “Doubt I could replicate it. Your gift is different than mine.” “Still”, Naomi said, “I’d help you give it a try, but someone has to have died… he didn’t die suddenly enough the first time I can tell you. The way it ended was satisfying in a sense…” she trailed off as they clinked their glasses.

“More white wine?”

 

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