Mary O'Malley has decided it's time to let the world know about the weave that divides the physical world from the realms of the gods. After all, Hanover Fist has been investigating their shennanigans for nearly 100 years and she's got every bit of it documented. Although Mary will lead the blog, she expects guests to drop in, including Toledo Cats, Regan Worth, and Hanover Fist himself.
Stupid frogs. Stupid hot, wet India. Not that New Orleans is cool or dry, but at least there's something to do there, especially on Halloween. What I wouldn't give for a glass of...well...anything. I'd even settle for one of those skunky beers they serve at that pub in that last town we passed.
Sure Hanover'll be pissed that I took the jeep, but what else could I do? I can't exactly walk to town, can I? Besides, he's almost out of smokes too and probably won't even notice until his hand comes out of his pocket empty. Silly Hanover and then he'd be bumming one off me and griping about the menthol.
*sniff sniff* Can that be what I think it is? No way, no how, not here in the desolate frogland. Probably some nasty native plant that impersonates the glorious scent of dragon smoke. No, wait. I see smoke. A small and delicate tendril over near that hovel. I'll just stop the car and go investigate.
Poppy smoke, my nose is sure. I mean, it's been a long time, but there are some things you don't forget. The taste...the sweet burn at the back of my throat....the shimmer in the air....so yummy. I'll just follow the scent. Heh heh...Hanover says I can't track. If something's worth tracking, I can track it.
Stupid rocks. Damn heels. Sure, Mary would say "I told you so." She always says, "I told you so." But I look short without heels...and short legs are NOT attractive. Besides, you never know when some suave guy with an opium pipe will pop up in the netherlands.
Ummm.....so not attractive, even derelict. I'm not even sure that shape is a guy. It could be an old woman huddled there under furs in the dead moist heat. I should walk away.
Yes you should, princess.
"Quiet, Daddy. I'm old enough to make my own choice. Been old enough for longer than you walked this realm. Besides, it's not like anything has killed me."
I turn away from Daddy's ghost and approach the shape crouched against the wall. It's back is to me. "Um, excuse me Ma'am ...or Sir. Would you mind sharing a bit of the poppy?" It doesn't turn around. I can't believe it's ignoring me. I mean...acting like I was invisible. Maybe it can't hear. I don't want to touch its grimy....ewww what color is that anyway?... But the dragon calls....mmmmmmm the dragon smells so good. I touch its shoulder softly. "A little poppy? I can pay for it, of course. I'm no freeloader."
"What'll you pay with, Ridinghood?" a deep voice roared. "What could you possibly have that I would want?"
...to be continued tomorrow
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And while you're out trick-or-treating, be sure to visit the other authors on the coffin hop.
If you haven't visited K.F. Kirwin's blog, you should. She writes ghost stories..I think she and Regan can both speak to ghosts.