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Mummy Dearest
I assumed if I could contact dead loved ones they’d be just
like they were in life.
Ask me how I am, tell me not to worry, they’re happy. Inter-dimensional
pleasantries; something to alleviate the loneliness since Mummy died. Just me
and Molly now; Molly and her grey muzzle.
How wrong I was. Mummy has changed and not for the better. Didn’t
think the Ouija board would work, but it did. She spelled out the words with my
finger.
S-H-O-U-L-D
B-E
U
Then Molly’s heckles rose. Her growls guttural words. She
sunk her greying muzzle into my throat and tore.
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