“What’s wrong?” Cindy said into his neck.
She’d called him as she left work and sensed from his response that there was trouble. She’d called in home, grabbed two of her dinners from the freezer and hurried over. He’d opened the front door to her and pulled her into his arms.
Now she felt his body warmth, his breath on her shoulder, his strong arms around her. His silence and physical rigidity worried her.
“It was awful,” he said at last.
She backed away a little keeping her arms around him.
“I saw the two ladies being murdered.”
Cindy thought he might cry or vomit, or both.
“You mean in your mind’s eye?”
“I’ve never been exposed to violence other than movies or TV. They’re not real,” he said taking her hand leading her into the kitchenette.
A frown shadowed his face.
“My family is passive. So am I.” He took the containers from her and put them on the bench.
“How am I supposed to cope with extreme real violence?” Still holding her hand, he lead her to the couch, motioned her to sit and carefully seated himself beside her.
“The crime you saw, happened, you can’t do anything about it,” she said laying on her back, her head in his lap. His face, in fact, his whole body was tight as the strings of a guitar. She went on. “It’s a re-run that’s all.”
She liked his fingers playing with strands of her curls. She firmly clasped his other hand.
“You’ve got to separate yourself from it and move on,” she said.
“Easy for you to say. You didn’t see the… “ no he’d not tell her the gory details. “ …it.”
“Do you believe strongly that what you’re doing will prevent at least some crime, save some peoples lives?”
“Then ignore the nitty gritties. Distance yourself from it.”
“Where did you get ‘nitty gritties’?”
“Edith used to say it,” he said. She was probably smugly looking down on him if that were possible. He didn’t believe the ‘life after death’ concept.
“Is she less than 160centimetres tall with short permed grey hair? Wears a floral dress, a hand knitted cardigan and black flat healed shoes?”
“You knew her, before she died?”
“Arhh, no.” It was time to tell him the rest. “I see people on the other side.”
“The other side of what?”
“After they’ve died, I see them on the other side.”
“Spirits,” she nodded. She was conscious of his thighs under her head as she did so.
Synch gazed off into the distance.
“Does it creep you out? Is it going to affect, us?” She wasn’t sure how he’d take it.
“You’re kidding right?”
“No,” she said hesitating.
“Think about it,” he rumbled with laughter. “Seeing a person’s whole life in my mind is creepy. So why would I think… ” he laughed.
She got it and smiled widely. “We’re a creepy matching pair.”
By Diane L Wood
My Bio: http://write-intention.com/Diane_L_Wood.html
A Short Short Story: http://easywaytowrite.19.forumer.com/viewtopic.php?t=9
A Short Short Story: http://ancientearthashortstory.blogspot.com/
My Fun Page: http://easywaytowrite.19.forumer.com/viewtopic.php?t=47
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