Susie believes in poltergeists. That’s why I like her. It’s something when there’s nothing. Wake up, meds, teeth, shower, dress, gas, coffee, work work work, read, sleep. Wake up, meds, teeth. Repeat and repeat and repeat.
Then one day Susie tells me about books flying off shelves. She tells me about stacked chairs, about her kitchen smelling like pine trees and her bathroom smelling like chocolate. She tells me about messages on her mirrors. Messages that say:
“Where are your roses? Where are your hoses? Where are your toeses?”
Playful, right? Cotton candy of the demon world.
She tells me about possession. “It’s mild,” she says. “Manageable. Feels like I’m all of a sudden wearing pajamas. Makes me say things,” she says.
“Things like: run away with me and let’s join the circus.”
This is also why I like her.