Ever since I can recall, the dead have spoken to me. The recently deceased. When someone passes away, they visit me to help them with unresolved matters. It was terrifying at first for me, until I understood what was happening. Now it is just incredibly tedious. Sure, once in a while I get a murder victim and that is juicy, not that I can do much with the information. Who would believe me? Those rogue detectives on TV shows, the ones who take this stuff seriously, well they don’t exist. So I know who committed the crime, and that’s it. I watch the news and hope they are caught. Sometimes the victim hangs around and watches too.
Most of the time though it is the same old boring stuff. I wish I had told my girl or my husband or my kids how much I loved them. I wish I had spent more time at home instead of screwing around. And it is amazing how often I have been asked to go to someone’s house to check if they had turned off the stove or the iron. The dead are even more boring than the living.
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