The ritual completed, the last note hanging in the night air like a promise before… silence.
A gentle, seductive scent slowly filled the air. Chanel No. 5. A sudden, shockingly warm breeze rushed from the cemetery ground, air escaping from a non-existent subway vent. Almost invisible except for a gentle opacity, ephemeral cloth billowed in the air, an intangible white dress, flirting, never exposing, what was underneath.
When she spoke, her voice was… angelic. Unreal. Her whispers slide coldly across my mind, an ice cube melting into my brain.
I was wrong. So very wrong.
Her words, her thoughts carried a lifetime of sadness. Longer than a lifetime. I didn’t understand what she meant, and said as much, speaking out-loud to the night air. My words, my breath, misted in front of me in the dim light.
I said once that ‘It’s far better to be unhappy alone than unhappy with someone’.
I nodded, it was one of her more famous quotes. Ice crystals had begun to form on the face of my watch. Frozen perspiration.
I was wrong. It’s soooo much worse being unhappy and alone, and I’ve been alone for soooo long.
I want to be unhappy with you…
The unearthly bouquet of Chanel No. 5, disappeared, retreating in the face of rank stench. Rancid butter, hospital-puke stink assaulted my nose and I fell to my knees gagging. Tears streamed from my eyes, and I heard rather than saw the earth of her grave rising, shifting. Six-feet of dirt began to dig itself away in front of me, and I could hear the dull crunch of old wood cracking.
Her voice had a dual quality now, angelic echoes in my mind, overlapped and overtaken by a thick, maggoty, wet cardboard slap, a vocal defilement of my now bleeding ears.
That’s better. The…
“… better. The body is meant to be seen, not all covered up.”
Another #PopQuizHotShot from Jacopo della Quercia. This one was good fun too. I love a ghost story.
Let me know what you think in the comments.