Old words part 3:

It’s Just me: Page 3

I moved more logs working about twenty meters from the dingy. It was up past high tide mark, almost in the bush. A dead man took my phone. Took a picture and put it back.

There’s a dead man walking and he’s here.

I jumped up and drew the curtains over the large windows and door, then scurried downstairs. Locked and curtained the back door and down more stairs into the main living areas. They were in darkness. I checked the three sets of doors that led to the surrounding deck and pulled the curtains. 

It was difficult to determine my actual feelings.

Seeing Mac in DC was one thing. Seeing him in a messenger window, could’ve had an explanation. Getting text messages from beyond the grave, sure why not? Energy is energy, right? But a photograph on my phone? I wanted to send it to Lee or Sam, but no signal. For the life of me I could not think why it was a good idea to be alone in the land of low/no technology.

Alone with my ghosts.

A light flashed on the telephone on the counter top in the kitchen. I pressed the button and heard Rowan’s voice.

“I’m leaving New York in the morning, see you mid-afternoon. Two shows without you weren’t as fun as they are when you’re with me.”

The message ended. I’d had a bad concert experience. So my attendance at concerts with Rowan was sketchy. The kind of experience I had can really do a number on your head. I added a certain stadium to the growing list of places I never wanted to see again.

Rowan understood.

We met amidst carnage and personal wreckage. We survived.

I picked up the phone and called him back. No answer. Straight to the voice mail.

I left a message saying I was looking forward to him getting here. 

The clock on the wall above the back door said it was already eight-thirty. The band would be on stage and Rowan would be running out any minute to join them. I took the television remote from the counter and walked into the living room. I turned the TV on and then my lap top, which was connected to the TV. After opening a browser window and finding the link for the televised gig, I sat back on the large leather couch. I was using satellite to pick the signal.


One thought on “Old words part 3:

  1. This is getting good, Cat! I want to know what Ellie’s doing there, and why she keeps getting those messages. It’s deliciously eerie in that way. And I like her resourcefulness, using satellite to access the ‘net.

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