Sometimes Dead by Marni Scofidio

Author:Marni Scofidio
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: For Attention Press
Published: 2022-11-18T00:00:00+00:00

Unearthed

Sometimes I think that everything started to go downhill the day I met the psychic.

Called herself a psychic. She was a psychic all right. If you spell psychic ‘n-o-s-e-y-p-a-r-k-e-r’. Her name changed with the flip of a coin, or maybe alternate Mondays. Some days Carol, other days Carol Jean. Whatever it was, after what she said to me the first time we met, I avoided her if I spotted her before she saw me.

It was a freak summery day in October and we hadn’t long moved in. I was taking out the recycling. Came up to me as if she knew me and said right out, ‘I don’t like to ask, but I see things: Did you have something terrible happen to you when you were a child? Were you taken into care? I only ask because I see it so clearly, do you get me?’

Oh, I got her, all right. Saying something like that to a total stranger. If my parents had heard, they’d have wet themselves laughing. (My parents still live out in Llansadwrn, where I was born and very happily raised.)

This Carol or Carol Jean was tall for a woman, over six feet. If I offended her who knew how she’d react. We’d come from the west end of Rhyl and if you live in a rough neighbourhood, you learn to be careful not to upset people.

Our occupations don’t matter, we’d both had to give up work years ago, him because of his heart, me because I had to care for him. We live, I should say lived, in a cul-de-sac hidden away from the main town, between the railroad tracks, the caravans, and the sea. Our post always came addressed to Station Road when you could see the sign quite clearly as you drive in, Station Street; the times I offered to take a picture to prove they’d got it wrong. Henry kept saying there were more important things in life. Live and learn. (A lot of the time I didn’t.)

We called our cul-de-sac the Departure Lounge; when Henry had his heart attack we got moved here, in sheltered accommodation. It’s for over-55s, though most people living here are older than us, older than God’s wet nurse. (We once estimated that the accumulated ages of the estate made it older than western civilisation.) The window in our lounge spanned an entire wall and the nets let us check out events without being too obvious about it. Most weeks an ambulance arrived to remove a tenant; Henry and I used to sit by the window with a cup of tea and a rollie and have a bet on who was next. Sounds mean but when you’re housebound you have to get your fun wherever you can.

Besides, this place isn’t completely devoid of life. Lots of tenants have grand- and great-grandchildren screaming between the flats on sunny days. That’s one of the reasons I’ve always liked rainy days. No one’s brats outside kicking the side of our building or running through plants it’s taken us months to grow.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.