On July 10, I was visited by a series of phantasms. It was like Dickens A Christmas Carol except it was hot as balls and the child labor was outsourced to China.
I have to admit to a soft spot for Phantasm #3. She was my favorite visitor. There’s not a lot of substance to her but that’s part of her charm. She’s a little dotty and airy and starstruck but she knows things that most of us can’t even imagine. She sat on the corner of my bed for two and a half hours, holding her finger to my lips. I spent most of that time adjusting my eyes to the dark before I could see the black pinprick of her pupils. Then I could see all the way in. She has a heart of gold. Or some other precious meddle.
She is a constellation of consternation.
Her Lizzy is not boardin’. It’s just passing through. She doesn’t want to start a fight. But she knows how to end one, with no loose ends to drag her down. She watches Forensic Files. She knows what they look for.